Syndicate
by Tanya Lilac
Summary: Tenten, an intelligence operative of Konoha, is sent on an undercover assignment after a brief reunion with her former lover and cell member, Hyuuga Neji. Despite having a new identity and a case to crack, she begins to realise, spy or otherwise, she will never be able to leave her past behind. Nejiten. AU.
1. It Always Has to End Like This

**AN: **Welcome to _Syndicate_… a fanfiction that has caused me more grief than usual, because I lost a good quarter of it before I could back it up. Of course, it's given me time to rethink some characters and polish things up, so I hope you enjoy!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter One – It Always Has to End Like This_

17:30 October 29. Roppongi, Tokyo.

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

It was the sound straight out of her nightmares. A dripping tap, drops of water falling into a stainless steel sink. A maddeningly slow descent into mind-numbing insanity – it was, by all means, a brilliant torture device. Tenten's nose wrinkled as she made her way through the warehouse, haunted and chilled by the smell of metal and blood. Her heels clicked against the concrete floors, and her companion, a slender blonde, whispered in her ear and giggled the entire way as her eyes cast around for escape routes. Tenten smiled and said something back – she was on autopilot – and, with a heavy heart, she realised that the person they were looking for was probably in the room they were heading towards. The blonde could sense it too, and her grip on Tenten's arm tensed.

"Ooh, what's in there?" She asked, batting her eyelashes at one of the guards as they walked past yet another cold room. Abattoirs never failed to put her on edge, despite what she did for a living. She didn't string up the people she killed by their legs and slice them in half.

"Pigs," he grunted. He had a thick neck and a tattoo. His head was shaved and he leered at her with beady eyes. "But don't you go fillin' your heads with those kinds of nasty stuff, okay?"

"Is your job … dangerous?" Ino cooed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Because… that's like, hot."

"No way!" Tenten replied, rolling her eyes. "You did not, just-"

"I so did." Ino said, seriously. "It _so_ is."

"Ladies, we're here," their escort announced. He opened the door with his right hand, and Tenten noticed his fingers were thick and stumpy… but adorned with gold rings. He was a hitter, then. Preferred to punch men and backhand women and children, from the looks of it.

The sight that greeted them beyond the locked door, guarded by three other men, was what they had feared the most. Asuma, Ino's mentor and former cell leader, was tied to a chair, beaten, bruised and bloody. His face was swollen and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Most likely, his captors had pulled out his teeth. Ino and Tenten gave each other a significant look. His assailant was wrapping up his knuckles in bandages on the other side of the room, and he turned at their approach with a broad grin as if he sold ice cream for a living. Tenten sucked in a deep breath as the heavy door shut behind them. The room was soundproof, and with good reason.

"What took you two so long?" He chuckled. "I was beginning to think you'd never come."

"Well, better late than never, Ryosuke-sama," Ino replied, latching herself onto his arm and running a hand down his chest. Tenten followed suit, her arm going around his shoulders to stroke the back of his neck. "What do you want to do tonight, my love?"

They'd been hanging around Ryosuke for the past three months, now – after the first week, they'd learned like (like the women had before them) to not acknowledge the presence of victims. They 'deserved' their treatment.

"I don't know, love."Ryosuke replied smoothly. "Do you want to try something fun?"

Tenten ran her lips across his neck as she guided his hands to her breasts, ignoring the blood on his bruised knuckles. "Like what, love? My kind of fun?"

"Yeah, love. Your kind of fun." They both heard the change in his voice and refrained from looking at one another. Something wasn't quite right, here. "Have you ever held a gun before?"

Ino laughed. "Don't be silly, love. Why would I need a gun?" Her eyes slid, for a moment, over to Asuma. He was breathing shallowly, but he had already lost a lot of blood.

Ryosuke grinned, noting the way that the blonde had looked to the captive. It was a rookie mistake, and had confirmed all of his suspicions. "A little bird told me about your _real_ job and I have to say… I don't like girls who lie to me."

"What do you mean, my love?" Tenten asked, pouting. "We-"

"I don't like girls who lie," he repeated forcefully, pulling out his gun. Tenten stared at him down the barrel, and he watched as she transformed completely. Her eyes turned as cold as steel and her expression became a smooth, expressionless mask that she had crafted over the past six years. Ryosuke grinned. "There she is." Ino's hand slipped beneath the hem of her dress, but Ryosuke pulled his second gun out, cocking his head. "Just try, love. I dare you."

Ino took three calming breaths.

"We're going to do this like Spain," a voice whispered in her ear. Shadow, as per usual, was leading their joint team. "In three... two... one."

The blonde grabbed his wrist and Tenten ducked as Ryosuke fired the gun. She swept her leg out and he fell to his knees, Ino holding him up by his hand, even as she cried out. The blonde wrested the gun from his grasp and Tenten removed the gun from her holster and pointed it at his forehead.

"Drop it. Keep your hands in sight." She commanded. "Do not think for an instant I will hesitate to blow your fucking brains out if you even _blink_ suspiciously."

The weapon clattered to the floor and she resisted the temptation to look. Ino was watching her back, after all.

"Hand behind your back, and on your feet." Smirking, Ryosuke complied. The blonde swiftly cuffed his wrists together and pulled him to his feet.

"You'll never leave this building alive."

Tenten punched him, and Ino's steely grip prevented him from falling. "I like my odds."

"I didn't mean you," he smirked, spitting blood onto the floor. "I was talking about the old man there. You lost your chance."

Ino let go of him, and before he had the chance to do anything, Tenten knocked him unconscious with a punch to his solar plexus. The blonde rushed over to her former teacher, swearing as she saw the newly acquired bullet wound. Sneaky bastard. Ino cut Asuma free from the chair and laced his arm around her back as she tried to help him stand.

"Come on, Asuma-sensei! I need a bit of help from you here!"

He chuckled weakly, making no effort to stand. "There's no point, Ino."

"It's Platinum," Ino snapped, ignoring the hot prickling at the corners of her eyes. "And don't talk like that. Some spy you turned out to be!"

"There's not much we can do, Platinum," Shadow said. "A team is on the way. Your priority now is ensuring your own life."

"When I get my hands on you, Shadow, I will fucking-"

"_Platinum_. This is a direct order." His voice was taut, and she knew it was a difficult decision. She handed Asuma her gun. There wasn't much else she could say, and he simply pulled her close, weakly. "You've done well, Ino."

"Thanks... for everything, Asuma-sensei."

"We need to leave," Tenten said, picking up Ryosuke's guns and looking at the door. Asuma lifted his arm and Ino stood, unshed tears gathering in her eyes.

"Good luck," Asuma said quietly. They both turned back and nodded, before opening the door. That image of him, sitting in a steel chair in a darkened room... would never leave her.

They stumbled out, Ino in hysterics, Tenten shutting the door behind them, sniffing. The guards were _almost_ unsympathetic.

"He said... he said he didn't want us anymore," Ino said, falling into the arms of the first. Tenten clung to the second guard.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Hey, now, miss, er-" Awkward consolations were cut short as they were both knocked out. Gunshots from the other side of the corridor signalled the end of their ruse. Tenten swore and Ino grabbed her arm as they sprinted down the corridor, footsteps echoing behind them.

"It always has to end like this, right?" Tenten grinned, trying to take the other girl's mind away from her teacher. "Come on, you can tell your friend that you can run faster in heels."

"She'll say something about the time when she jumped out of a helicopter in heeled boots." Ino sighed, and Tenten glanced over and found that her mind was already going through the motions. Compartmentalisation now, break down _later_. If you survive. Ino caught her look, and gave a small smile, wiping away her tears.

They broke out of the warehouse, and began to run down the alleyway, lost in the sounds of the city awakening at night.

"Come on, everyone's done that," Tenten grinned. Her mind was already tallying how many bullets she had left. She'd brought a magazine, so she had fifteen shots. Would she have the time to use them, though? "Left ahead?" She turned to look at Ino, who was frowning.

"Yeah," she replied distractedly.

"Prodigy is here," a second voice crackled in Tenten's ear – Maple – sounding sombre. It was a phrase she secretly loved and hated to hear. "You're five hundred metres from being in range."

Shots were fired from behind them and Ino yanked Tenten around the corner, the brunette pivoting on one foot and firing three times. In the split second before she turned around again, she saw one fall, and smirked. They had called her the best for a reason. "We've got five more on our tail," she said breathlessly to her companion. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Twelve left.

Ino grinned. "No worries. Your boyfriend's here, isn't he?"

Tenten rolled her eyes. "Focus, Ino."

The blonde opened her mouth, but Tenten interrupted her breathlessly. "He's not my boyfriend," she added quickly.

"That's good. You're still meeting your date tonight, right?" The slight hitch of her breath signalled she was close to breaking point. The mission had not failed yet. It had been an arrest, not an extraction – Asuma had never been the object here.

"Yeah. If I make it on time," Tenten smiled.

"You are in range, Dragon." A third voice said, quietly. It sent chills down her spine.

"Thanks, Prodigy."

"Okay..." Ino sighed. "What now?"

Tenten's mouth set in a grim line. They turned sharp to the right, and found themselves in a dead end. Ino swore quietly. "I hate these kinds of traps," she muttered.

"It's fine. There's only five. We're armed and we've got our guardian angel watching. Focus. Don't hesitate. They'll be ready for anything."

A loud catcall echoed down the alleyway and bounced eerily off the walls. It was followed by loud whistles and laughter.

Ino raised Ryosuke's gun and shot down the first person who came into range, silencing the pack as he fell to the ground.

"Or not," Tenten sighed. "I hate amateurs. They're on guard now."

The man on the left reacted quickly, cocking his gun. He took aim briefly, and three shots were fired rapidly. Ino and Tenten threw themselves out of the way, finding shelter behind a dumpster, and Tenten grunted as her blood dripped onto the pavement. A second body fell to the ground, a bullet in his chest and between his eyes.

"Almost, but not quite," she muttered, blood trickling down the side of her face. The call had been close enough, for one day. "I'm going to have one hell of a time covering this up."

"You're excited about this date?" Ino asked. The men weren't wasting bullets – they had apparently learned their lesson. Tenten discarded the magazine – one bullet wasn't much use if she'd need to waste time reloading.

Eight left.

Ino sighed and cocked her gun. "We're going to have to let them close in on us, aren't we?"

The brunette grinned. "You tell me."

The blonde peeked around the edge – there was about twenty centimetres of space between the wall and the bin and saw they were approaching. "Kneecap shot?"

"I was thinking more of a 'painful incapacitation'. That works, but aiming for the neck is a bit more satisfying."

"Would you two stop bickering and do something?" Shadow shouted. They could hear him trying to pull out his hair.

"They're _almost _professionals."

"They happen to be really close," he retorted tersely.

Tenten picked up an empty beer bottle and grinned at Ino. She handed it to the blonde and picked up an empty tin. Ino held up three fingers, silently counting down. Three, two, one – they tossed it over their heads and, as their would-be assailants were distracted by broken glass and clattering metal, Tenten and Ino slid out from behind their makeshift fortress and fired three shots each. The two on the left fell quickly, and a well aimed bullet from Ino knocked the man on the right to the ground, clutching his ruined leg.

"Fucking bitch!" He roared furiously. Ino fired a warning shot as they approached them wearily.

"Watch the language, boy. I would have thought that the first was more than enough of a warning," she said coldly. Gone was the bubbly young woman – she was all business now. Sadly, Tenten knew exactly what was going through the blonde's mind – the same thing was running through hers.

"A name," Tenten commanded.

"In your dreams, slut."

Tenten straddled his waist and Ino cocked her gun. The brunette drew a knife from beneath the hem of her sequined dress and leaned down, cutting open his shirt to reveal his chest and stomach. He stopped trying to struggle.

"I can either run this knife through you, and show you whatever organ you'd like, or you can give me a name. Any name."

"Fuck off, like I'll say anything."

"Let me tell you a name I know," Ino said, over Tenten's shoulder. "Tachibana Haruna."

He paled. "Leave her out of this."

"Aww, what a sweet boy," Tenten crooned, running the blade over his skin. "You love your mother a lot, don't you, Tachibana-kun?"

"Shall we kill her first?"

"You can't do that! You're with an agency!"

"Who says we are?" Tenten asked, grinning coldly. "We killed four of your comrades. If we were with an agency, the emphasis would have been on pacification, not death. I don't know if I can handle five men with bullets in their kneecaps."

"One is more than enough right now," Ino muttered. "I'm losing patience, Mama's Boy. A name or your spleen's going to be the latest addition to the dumpster over there. Are you going to risk us killing your beloved _okaa-sama_?"

Tachibana said nothing, he just screwed his eyes shut and breathed heavily through his nose.

"Oh! My hand slipped," Tenten said, feigning surprise. Her knife cut easily through his skin, leaving a long bloody gash down his pale chest. His eyes flew open.

"Bitch!" Tachibana roared, but was slammed back against the ground as Ino shot him in the shoulder.

"I recall asking you about your language."

He was sobbing now, and Tenten was sure he was entering shock. She frowned and turned back to face Ino. "Was that really necessary? You could have kicked his knee or something."

The blonde shrugged apathetically. Tenten sighed and reached up and pulled the clip out of her hair, her tresses sticking to her clammy skin. "This is morphine," she said to him, slowly and clearly. "You are in a world of pain right now, but as my friend has demonstrated, we can most definitely broaden your horizons. Give us a name and not only will you get this morphine here, we'll get you to a hospital, no questions asked."

He blinked up at her, sniffing, and, stuttered though clenched teeth, "I... I don't know... All we knew w-was that orders... were from S-Sendai."

"Good boy," Ino said curtly.

"Good work, Platinum, Dragon." Shadow replied, sighing. "We're sending in your pick up team – ETA ten minutes."

Tenten injected Tachibana with the sedative and he sighed, his head falling back onto the concrete, his eyes unfocussed.

"We need to get him to a medical facility."

It was not Shadow who objected this time. "Dragon, you do not have the authority –"

"That's what I promised him, Prodigy," Tenten snapped. "If you like, I can take it up with you _in person_."

He wisely decided to remain silent on the topic of, 'threatening a superior'.

She pulled out a pair of hand cuffs and chained his hands together, ignoring his whimper of pain as she rolled him onto his side.

"Shut up, you'll live," Ino said. She checked the pulse of his nearest accomplice and moved on when she found nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny movement from the man closest to Tenten and tried to move, a gun in hand. She shouted, and a final shot resounded in the alleyway, echoing off the walls.

Tenten blinked, surprised, and looked down at her hands, splattered with blood. Her eyes stared unseeingly at the crimson stained walls.

"Dragon, do you read me?" Maple was shouting in her ear, and she winced. "Get out of there, _now_. Meet Prodigy at rendezvous point five-five-three in three minutes. Platinum, Shadow's coming to get you at point six-zero-one. ETA four minutes."

Ino pulled the long coat off a thug's body and wrapped it around Tenten's shoulders, hiding the bloodstains and covering her hair. No one said a thing about the unrecogniseable corpse that had tried to kill them with their backs turned.

"Come on, we're leaving."

Tenten gathered her wits and stood, and twisted her hair before tucking it beneath the collar of the jacket. Ino gave her a tiny, relieved smile as they began to run down the alley again, losing themselves in the maze of the backstreets of Tokyo.

Soon, they had to part ways, after a brief farewell – Tenten didn't know when she'd be working with Ino next, and no one ever talked to each other outside of work. She turned and watched the blonde racing down the laneway, and waved, before she walked in the other direction, wiping her hands on the coat lining before buttoning up the jacket. Tenten scrounged around in the pockets and, upon finding an old rubber band, tied her hair in a bun.

She quickly took stock of her bearings and continued down the laneway, her pace quickening as she heard the roar of a motorbike engine. A sleek, black motorbike came into view and the rider stopped, placing a foot on the ground, and procured a backpack. He tossed it to her, and Tenten grinned and opened the bag, quickly finding a pair of leather pants inside.

"Seems like you remembered everything today, Prodigy." Tenten said, unzipping the sides of the pants where seams normally existed. She pulled them on and zipped them up, thanking whoever had invented these – it was so much easier than trying to pull on jeans over high heels. She tucked her bloodstained dress into the waistband and pulled on a helmet and a pair of gloves. The brunette threw the bag into a nearby garbage bin and sat behind him on the bike, her arms wrapping themselves gingerly around his waist.

"I won't bite, Tenten," he replied drily and her arms tightened around him.

With a promising roar and the screech of tires, the motorbike tore down the alleyway and, after a sharp left turn, arrived at the main road, entering the oncoming traffic with practiced ease.

"That was a good shot."

He ignored her praise. "It shouldn't have been necessary. The technicians will not be pleased."

They slipped past the yellow light, weaving lightly through traffic.

"How was the clean up?"

"Good."

"Ryosuke?"

"Unconscious, but in custody."

"Asum-"

"_Protocol_, Dragon," he said forcefully. She wasn't taken aback – she'd grown used to his curtness and strict adherence to protocol. It had started a few years ago, after his transgression when they'd been recruits. He'd attacked a comrade with killing intent – it was almost behind him, now, but... these kinds of things were indelible, especially in their world, where no one ever forgives and forgets.

"This is Prodigy, requesting clearance to return to headquarters."

Tenten sighed, sensing their conversation was over. A cool, female voice responded, crystal clear, after a long pause – they were checking if they were being followed.

"Permission granted, Prodigy. Approach entrance twenty-three."

They were in a bustling business district, where no one looked twice at passing motorists – they were always coming and going. The pair pulled into an underground carpark, entering a code at the boom gate that would grant them access to a mezzanine level that would take them to their headquarters.

They parked the bike in the brightly lit car park, and several mechanics and recruits rushed over to collect their things.

"You've stained it for sure, this time," a young man said, frowning. Tenten took off her helmet and shook out her hair, grimacing as it settled on her shoulders, some strands sticky with sweat and blood.

"Deal with it, Konohamaru. We've got so many of them. Remember, just a few more months, and then you'll be returning from missions like these, and some other unfortunate recruit will be whinging about blood-stained helmets."

"This is blood?" he echoed, recoiling. Tenten grinned, slapping her companion on the shoulder.

"Courtesy of our favourite Prodigy," she laughed.

The said agent stopped and took off his helmet. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it into its customary meticulously messy spikes. He sighed, and looked down at her with onyx eyes that held casual bemusement.

"Like I said, Tenten," Uchiha Sasuke said, tossing Konohamaru his helmet and gloves, "If you'd done a proper job, our friends in the Pit here wouldn't need to worry about washing blood out of a state of the art motorbike helmet."


	2. Escape the Daily Grind

Well, in between trying to figure out how to connect a camcorder to my laptop, instead of crying, I decided to do something more productive.

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Two – Escape the Daily Grind_

06:00 October 26. Apartment 2017, The Grand Galleria, Odaiba, Tokyo.

The morning had begun like any other, really. Tenten had woken up at six and straightened her sheets. She had glanced at three mobile phones on her bedside table – a slender black flip phone, for work. A non-descript silver slide phone for personal use, and a red smart phone, with only one number in its contacts book. Nothing had changed since last night. Secretly both disappointed and thankful, she switched on the radio to fill the silence.

The tiles in the bathroom were cold as she relieved herself, and she sighed as she peered at her reflection in the mirror whilst she washed her hands. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, but just seemed so… tired.

She sighed, and walked back into her bedroom and opened her curtains, eyes scanning quickly over the immediately visible cityscape. She picked up a hair tie and quickly twisted her hair into a bun, without bothering to brush it. After a moment, she turned away and opened her wardrobe, toes curling into the plush fibres of the rug on her floor. Humming softly to herself as she ran her fingers lightly over different fabrics, she quickly undressed and put on her swimsuit before donning a pair of tracksuit pants and t-shirt. Tenten picked up her pyjamas and folded them neatly, placing them on the bottom left hand corner of her bed. She turned back to her wardrobe and opened a drawer, fingers counting pairs of neatly folded black socks and dark stockings, arranged from sheer to opaque. None had holes or ladders in them – the moment she nicked them on a sharp surface, they were thrown away as a precautionary measure.

Tenten selected one towards the middle – it was only autumn now – and then turned her attention to the rest of her outfit. A navy pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse with four parallel pin tucks running down the left and right side and a rounded collar, a black blazer and closed, indigo high heels with a weathered, oval buckle across the toes to add a bit of an edge to an otherwise ordinary pair of shoes.

She smiled, satisfied, and placed the stockings on the right side of the bed and then hung the three items on the back of her bedroom door. She slipped into her house slippers as she left the bedroom. Passing the kitchen bench, she picked up a small bag she had deliberately left the night before, next to her electronic facility keys. Tenten took off her slippers and stepped into a pair of sandals she kept by the door and set her heels down, parallel to her other shoes.

The brunette left her apartment and walked down the silent hallway, until she reached the end of the corridor and pressed the button to call the lift to her floor. A young man from down the hall joined her as they waited for the lift, and nodded.

"Good morning, Tenten-san," he said, just like every other morning. She knew who he was – Wakatsuki Shunsuke – he lived at number ninety eight and woke up early every morning to go to the gym. Every morning, he tried to talk to her, but every morning, her answers would be the same.

"Good morning, Wakatsuki-kun," she replied, nodding back. She made no attempt to further conversation. The lift would be here in a few more seconds, but they'd be standing in silence for another good twenty seconds before they reached the roof.

Like most mornings, he was deterred by her silence and said nothing when the lift opened. He let her in first.

"I hear they heat the pool in winter," he said as she pressed the button.

She nodded. "It's not necessary, though. It's an indoor pool."

"I see."

He kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and she refrained from sighing as she asked, "How are the gym facilities? I prefer to swim, but a change might be nice." Damn this child and his need for social niceties.

"They're really good. I like the rowing machine. My girlfriend agrees with me, she's going to meet me there now."

Tenten did not take the bait to lead into a conversation about his girlfriend, so he switched the topic.

"And how is your boyfriend lately, Tenten-san? I haven't seen him around lately."

What an insolent, rude child. Tenten turned to him and smiled warmly. He was taken aback, and the doors opened with a bright chime. "Is there a punching bag at the gym, Wakatsuki-kun?"

He stepped out of the elevator and Tenten used her arm to block the door, the smile turning icy. He did not miss the change.

"Err… yes," he replied, scratching the back of his head.

"That's good news. I might test it out next week," she replied, her arm falling. Shunsuke took the hint and nodded enthusiastically, bidding her an awkward, formal farewell as the doors closed again. Tenten dropped the smile. Boyfriend, huh? That was funny. He'd never really thought of it that way.

After a few more moments, the lift arrived at the pool and she stepped out. The hum of the filters filled the room, the water itself as still as glass. Tenten placed her bag on the bench and took out her towel, swimming cap and goggles. She took off her shirt and pants, folding them neatly before covering them with her bag.

She began to do a few stretches to warm herself up as she admired the view from the windows. The sky was ambiguous and grey, but the sun was already above the horizon. The lights in the city were still on, like always, a dazzling sea of stars amidst a grey metropolis. Tenten sighed, leaning against the banister. There was something so… off about today. Everything seemed lacklustre. With yet another sigh, she returned to the reason why she was here – the lap pool.

She liked to swim early in the morning – there was no one around, and she had the pool to herself. Of course, there was the added bonus of never having to use sunscreen. She tucked her hair under the cap and put on her goggles, and sat at the edge of the deep end, the soles of her feet resting against the surface of the water. The ripples passed and as the water stilled itself again, she slid into the pool.

Tenten fell into the familiar rhythm of freestyle – it was monotonous and comforting – and when she reached the end of the pool, turned smoothly and pushed off the wall, launching into another lap.

Some time later, another person dove into the pool as she turned and Tenten knew precisely who it was, and what time it was. She finished her lap and looked up at the clock. Six forty-five, on the dot. She took off her goggles and nodded at the pool's occupant, Saito Takumi, the boss of a domestic transport division of some company, and climbed out of the pool, quickly towelling herself down before putting on her tracksuit pants and shirt, wincing as always at the feel of fabric against her wet skin.

Tenten threw her goggles into the swimming bag and took off her cap, combing her fingers through her hair as she pressed the call button on the elevator. She had time to tie her hair into a high ponytail before the lift arrived. It was empty for the next few levels, and then a young woman joined her. She had bleached her hair an ordinary kind of caramel colour, her hair permed into perfect ringlets. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a lace shirt over a singlet top that bared her midriff. Her boots made an annoying clacking sound on the floor as she tapped her toes impatiently, and she checked her bejewelled mobile phone as the elevator sank through the building. She carried two cups of coffee and a plastic bag in her hands that most likely contained breakfast – fresh bread from a bakery across the street that was popular with young people. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, pouting as if to test the effect on her makeup, and smiled almost condescendingly at Tenten's unkempt appearance.

The lift doors opened and a child ran in, ahead of his mother. He stumbled and, as Tenten moved to stop him from falling, the woman started, coffee sloshing out of the paper cup onto her boots.

"Hideki-kun!" The mother arrived at the lift and stepped in, smiling at Tenten, who smiled back. "Thank you, Tenten-san." She sighed tiredly and ran a hand through her son's messy hair. The lift doors slid shut. "How have you been?"

Tenten used to baby sit Hideki a long time ago, when she had been in high school, and the first few years of university, when she'd been granted free weekends and Friday nights. After her husband's promotion a few years ago, Hideki's mother had since started staying home to look after her son.

"Who is this young man?" Tenten crouched on the floor and smiled. He gave her a toothy grin.

"I'm Hideki, nee-san! Don't you remember?"

"Hideki-kun? No! I remember Hideki-kun was a little, little boy!" She pinched his cheeks. "How old are you turning this year?" She ran her hand behind his ear and procured a chocolate coin (from a sealed stash in her swimming bag), much like she was used to – it was a trick she'd learned to amuse him. Back then, she had never realised how useful sleight of hand would become.

"Eight," he answered with pride.

"Eight?" Tenten echoed, as the lift reached her level. "Well, Hideki-kun, make sure you're a good boy for your mother, okay?" She ruffled his hair one last time and stood.

"It was good to see you again, Masana-san," she smiled, bowing at Hideki's mother. Her eyes glanced over the woman, who was sullen about the ruined boots, and she stepped out of the elevator. It closed behind her and she walked briskly to her room, opening the door with a swipe of the electronic key. When she entered the room, coffee was already brewing in the kitchen and the radio was announcing the latest headlines, traffic news and weather. Another fine autumn day.

Tenten pulled out her hair tie and let her hair tumble down her back as she changed shoes, quickly making her way to the shower. Going to work smelling like chlorine was never a good move. The water in the shower turned hot very quickly – there was never enough time to bathe in the mornings – and she quickly washed and conditioned her hair, scrubbing her skin with fragrant soap. When she stepped out of the shower two minutes later, she wrapped a towel around her body and wrapped up her hair in a towel-cap and washed and moisturised her face.

She opened a large jar with a silver lid and smoothed the almond lotion over her hands, and frowned. It was almost empty, after a good part of the year. Should she buy another? She sighed. There wasn't ever enough time for these things. Tenten left the bathroom, hanging the towel she used to dry herself on a hook on the way out. She chose an appropriate pair of underwear and bra before slipping on her stockings. The door was open – and the smell of coffee had wafted into the bedroom whilst she was showering.

Tenten smiled and buttoned up her blouse and zipped up her skirt. She walked quickly into the kitchen and threw two slices of bread into the toaster, leaving the lever untouched as she took a tub of butter and a jar of raspberry jam out of the fridge. She'd bought the jam some time ago on a trip to London.

A popular song started playing on the radio as she ran back to the bathroom. She unwrapped her hair, and began to dry it with a hair dryer, making sure not to dampen her blouse.

"Maybe I need a haircut," she murmured, looking at her split ends. She twisted her hair into two buns, and pinned them at the base of her neck. She grinned at the mirror. "I don't need a haircut," she said brightly, and then pouted. "You're mean for thinking something like that!"

Sighing, she dropped the high, girlish voice, clearing her throat as she unpinned her hair. A trim, she compromised silently. Half an inch would suffice. She sighed again and opened the makeup case on the counter, and carefully applied eyeliner and mascara to her eyes and blush to her cheeks – there was never a real need for theatrics in the office – and pinned her damp hair in a tight, professional knot. Corporate image was everything. Or... at least its semblance.

Tenten walked back into her room and picked up a hand bag, and placed all the items on her dresser inside – wallet, make-up bag, leather diary, pens and, after a moment's hesitation, walked over to her bedside table and put her mobile phones in the bag. The red phone she left alone. She switched off the radio, leaving the apartment feeling comfortably silent.

Satisfied, she left her room and shut the door behind her. Tenten pushed the lever down on the toaster and prepared her coffee as she switched on the television across the room.

"A recent study has shown that men are more likely than women to-"

She changed the channel. She could never handle watching morning news shows. The hosts talked too much and about useless things as they flirted on screen. There were only a few that she liked to watch.

"The weather today in Tokyo will be quite cool at nineteen degrees but it looks like things will warm up just in time for the weekend."

The toast popped out of the toaster, and Tenten pinched a slice gingerly before lifting it and dropping it onto a plate.

"So, as promised, we have a special guest today! I know we don't normally have them, but this was an opportunity too good to resist!"

The crowd cheered and Tenten spread the butter and jam on her pieces of toast.

"Yes, I know Momoko-san has been very excited about this guest – who wouldn't? He's a charismatic heir, and the entire city's been in love with him for the past two years since he was brought into the public spotlight!"

"Exactly! With a squeaky clean record, who better to ask the man himself about his past? Ladies and gentlemen, I present –"

As the figure appeared on the side of the stage, the crowd's cheers reached ridiculously high decibels, drowning out the announcer. Tenten dropped her piece of toast. The man walked across the set and the hosts stood, and Tenten could only stare, breakfast forgotten. He was all charisma – smiling, confident, relaxed and most definitely approachable – it was hard to believe that…

"Good morning, Hyuuga-san."

"Good morning, Kentarou-san… Momoko-san."

The woman blushed and smiled, and they all sat down in the comfortable looking arm chairs. Not once did his face betray any emotion other than complete confidence and openness. The man really was a genius.

"For our audience, we'd just like to say that this man is, I must admit, the hardest person to get a hold of!" Kentarou announced, to their laughter. "It took a really, really long time to get a hold of you and then even longer to organise an appearance! Most people just jump right on, but your manager…"

"My manager?" He echoed. "Oh yes, Sacchan. She takes care of a lot of other people too, so she's always angry at me for making a fuss."

"Sacchan?" Kentarou asked, with a smile.

The guest rapidly apologised. "I mean, Hyuuga Sadako-san." He looked at the camera. "Sorry, Sadako!" The audience laughed, and Momoko blushed for no particular reason, yet again. She was becoming annoying.

"Ah, sorry, Hyuuga-san… Is it okay if I ask you a question, Hyuuga-san?"

"Go ahead, Momoko-san."

She giggled to herself, and her co-host was quick to jump in. "Look at her, even our Momoko-san is reduced to feminine giggles!"

Momoko turned to her co-host and made some kind of protest before returning to the question. "Ah, yes, Hyuuga-san. You were recently featured on the cover of J magazine, and when the interviewer asked you this question (he smiled knowingly at this point), 'Where do you see yourself in five years?', you answered, 'Married to the woman I love.' Do you have a woman in mind?"

He chuckled, and rubbed the bridge of his nose – a sign that gave away his slight irritation. "Which man doesn't have a woman in mind?"

The audience cheered, as if on cue, and Momoko waved them away – which prompted more laughter. "Please, continue, Hyuuga-san."

"Oh… um… yes. What man doesn't have a woman in mind? We all have a kind of woman whom we envision will be our wife in the future."

"So… what is this woman like?" Momoko edged along the side of her armchair, keen to see if she would fit the criteria. He smiled politely at her, and rubbed the bridge of his nose once more.

"Well…" At this point, he looked directly at the camera. "She's the kind of woman who thinks that she's ordinary, but I know that she's unique. She shows her true face only to me, and she knows every inch of mine."

The electronic timer hit half past seven and the television turned off, leaving Tenten breathless and staring at a blank screen. The _bastard._

Suddenly infuriated, Tenten folded her piece of toast in half and took a generous gulp of her now cool coffee, setting the empty mug in the sink and filling it with water. She placed her other piece of toast in a zip lock bag and switched off the lights in her apartment, grabbing a jacket from the closet near her door. She put on her shoes and checked her reflection in the mirror quickly before she left, hooking her handbag in the crook of her arm.

"Bastard," she muttered to herself as she walked out.

12:30 October 26. Pierre Café, Ginza

"Why did we have to come all the way out here for lunch?" Tenten sighed. Her companion, who sat at the table opposite her, crossed her legs and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Why not, Tenten? Lighten up a little. Don't think about work so much. Escape the daily grind, you know?" She smiled at the waiter who walked up to their table and placed their meals in front of them. "Besides, you've been moody all day. What better way to pick you up than a company paid lunch?"

Tenten rolled her eyes and twirled the spaghetti onto her fork.

"What I would like," she muttered under her breath, "is for everyone to just f-"

"Oh, by the way, you're free this weekend, right?" Ino interrupted her, and then paused. "Oh wait, who am I asking? You're always free, especially since…" She trailed off at the withering look Tenten fixed her with, and continued. "Anyway, I have this most gorgeous friend of a friend who I think would be perfect for you."

Tenten arched an eyebrow. "A friend of a friend? Ino, you know I don't react well to blind dates."

"He's not blind!" Ino laughed, conveniently helping herself to a large serve of her salad so she was unable to talk.

The brunette sighed. "You said that the last one would be the last one."

"Trust me, Tenten. This guy is _perfect_ for you."

"Explain," Tenten said, none too politely.

"Well, for starters, he's rich. So you could retire from our line of work, if you'd like. He's really big on family… and he's pretty much as thick as a brick, even if you do choose to continue working." Ino smiled. "And he's really plain looking, so there's nothing really flashy about him."

Tenten couldn't help but laugh. "You really have perfect timing, you know?"

"Great. I'll give him a call. He said he'd pick you up at your place at seven thirty on Friday."

"You gave him my address?" Tenten sighed, exasperated. "Ino, that's a bit excessive, don't you think?"

The blonde could only wink. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."


	3. Life on the Edge

**A/N:** I forgot to mention last time, I'll be updating on the second Saturday of every month. :D Enjoy!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Three – Life on the Edge_

18:45 October 29. Konoha Headquarters (garage 23), Tokyo.

Tenten scowled and winced, her wound twinging. She raised her hand to brush her fringe away from her cut. Sasuke turned to her, concern flitting briefly across his eyes.

"That really was a close call," he said quietly, brushing her hair aside so he could get a closer look. Tenten sighed and tilted her head to the side. "Make sure it doesn't happen again," Sasuke said, dropping his hand and turning away.

Tenten took off her shoes so he stood a few inches taller than her and Konohamaru shouted, "Shoes on in the Pit!"

She turned and flashed him a grin. "Live life on the edge a little, will you?" She waved a quick goodbye and he only stared dejectedly at her, his arms full of equipment.

Tenten handed Sasuke her shoes as they walked over to the lift and a guard at the door passed them their access cards - a black plastic card with an almost invisible magnetic strip on one side.

"Thanks, Akira-san. How's your girlfriend?" Tenten asked. "It's her birthday next week, isn't it?"

He grinned and nodded. "Always an impeccable memory, Tenten-san. Uchiha."

The lift arrived before he could answer and the pair stepped in, both swiping a card at the scanner below the numbered panel. The door shut with a chime, and Tenten inspected her wound in the mirror and sighed. "This will be hard to explain." She was used to that tension; people giving Sasuke sidelong glances that spoke volumes of mistrust.

"You're looking forward to your date?" Sasuke asked, pressing the button that would take them to the medical centre. He studied her for a moment, before scoffing, and crossing his arms, wearing a smirk that was just a bit too smug for Tenten's liking. "Che… you're nervous. You've switched into autopilot."

Tenten turned and arched an eyebrow at him. "Autopilot?"

"When you're nervous, you become... another you. Lighter, somehow."

Tenten smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes. "Do you like this other Tenten?"

"No," Sasuke sighed, watching the numbers tick past. Tenten smiled to herself, and he added, almost too quietly for her to hear, "I like her the way she's supposed to be."

The doors opened and they stepped out into the medical facility. The lights were bright and harsh, and there were lines traced out on the floor, leading to the different wards. The clinic was on this level. The emergency floor was on the next level up, Tenten remembered. She'd been a frequent visitor here, back when... feeling Sasuke's eyes on her, Tenten sighed quietly and refrained from thinking of... _him_.

They continued to walk through the corridor, and turned left at the end. There was a small reception desk. The woman looked up at them and smiled. "Good evening – take a seat on that bed over there, a doctor will be with you in a minute, to deal with that cut." She signed the papers and stood, leading them to the bed. "Take a seat, and fill these in while you're waiting." They sat down and the nurse pulled the curtains shut.

"Do you know who he is?" Sasuke asked, as she began to rapidly fill in the blanks in large, clear strokes.

"No, Ino said he was a friend of a friend."

"A blind date?"

"Somewhat, was the answer I received." Tenten finished the first page, and signed the bottom, and flipped to the next form. An incident report. "She thinks of these as favours."

"Maybe… maybe when things calm down, you and I can-"

The curtains opened and a young woman with cherry pink hair greeted them. Her gaze turned frosty at the sight of Sasuke. "Non-patients will need to wait somewhere else."

"Sakura, seriously?" Sasuke crossed his arms. "You used to always sit in on… Naruto's treatments." He didn't add 'my' for a reason.

Tenten continued to scribble on the clipboard, diligently ignoring them. The truth was, Sasuke hadn't always been a part of her team. He'd turned rogue a long time ago, and had only just been granted about half of his former access. When … _he _had left about two years ago, Sasuke had taken his call sign a few months later as he was reinstated – Prodigy. It was a name that suited the both of them, quite well.

"I'm finished, Sakura-san." She handed the woman the clipboard, and she flipped through the pages, apparently satisfied. It seemed like she knew she wouldn't be able to argue with Sasuke on this point, and put on her latex gloves, determinedly staring over Tenten's shoulder.

"That's quite a cut. Bullet graze?' she asked, preparing antiseptic wipes. "Lucky shot."

Tenten bit her lip as she wiped away the blood, her wound stinging from the chemicals. "Yeah, that's pretty much what happened."

"Are you feeling light headed at all?"

"No."

"You don't need stitches, but I'll put these bandaids on." She took off her gloves and applied the tiny bandages with a pair of tweezers. "It really was a close call, Tenten. Watch out for yourself."

"How's Ino?"

Sakura shrugged. "She's not coming in for another good ten minutes. Shikamaru picked her up in a van, so they're stuck in a fair bit of traffic."

Silence settled awkwardly, until Sakura took a deep breath in. "You should get yourself cleaned up. I don't think your life's in danger, but it'd help to wash the blood out of your hair."

Tenten chuckled. "My thoughts exactly. Thanks again." Sakura walked off, clipboard in hand, and Tenten jumped off the bed, unzipping the side seams of her pants. "These are always uncomfortable to walk in." Sasuke took them from her, hanging them over one arm as they continued walking, Tenten tiptoeing across the linoleum floor, whilst Sasuke's boots squeaked comically.

"Things aren't… so good with you two, are they?" Tenten asked once they were safely in the lift.

"Pretty much. She's always… It's hard. I never quite know what to say, and we both end up angry at each other," Sasuke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's an ongoing cycle. She keeps bringing up the past."

"Is that a bad thing, though?"

She didn't have to say who she was thinking of. The elevator opened and they both stepped out again, into a reception area. It wouldn't have looked out of place in any other building, but seated in the waiting area were people of all different attires, from a pair of girls looking almost identical in gothic Lolita dresses, to a couple lavishly dressed for a black-tie ball.

Every one turned to look at them, they looked away quickly.

"I will not be thought of as a replacement," he said quietly.

Tenten frowned. "What do you…?" She cocked her head to the side. "If that was really the case, you should have chosen the name 'Renegade'. What you want and what you do are different things, Sasuke."

Anger and irritation flashed across his eyes and he closed her off, and handed her the leather pants and the silver shoes. "Have a good evening, Tenten." He walked ahead of her, and spoke to the man at the reception desk before he was led away through an archway on the right hand side of the room.

With a sigh, Tenten walked up to the left side of the desk and leaned against the counter as a girl grinned at her.

"Yo," the young woman said, smiling brilliantly. Her face fell when she took stock of what she was wearing. "I did not send you out wearing something like that. You left this place two hours ago, looking hot in this amazing Hi-Tomi dress. You look like you stole that jacket off a bum on the street!"

"Sorry, Hibi. It's close enough, though," Tenten replied. She shrugged off the jacket. "It could be evidential but the clean-up team found the base… you can burn it, I guess."

"I'll keep it for missions," Hibi said, gingerly sliding it over the counter and throwing it into a chute. "In the mean time, you're in room number five and your outfit and bathroom things have already been set up. Collect your shoes on the way out."

Tenten left the pants and shoes with Hibi and walked through the archway on the left side of the room, turning left again to find a corridor of frosted glass doors. The third room on the left was hers – the door was clear – but as soon as she walked in, the glass changed so her figure was blurred and obscured. As promised, her things were hanging on one side of the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of the time – seven o'clock – and cursed quietly. Once again, there was no time for a bath. The architects had considered this kind of a problem, and smoothly integrated a stand shower in the corner of the room. Tenten stripped off her dress and undergarments and placed them in a provided bag and threw it into the laundry chute. Her holsters, she peeled off gingerly and placed in a different bag to take home with her.

She untied her hair and set the temperature of water in the shower before turning the tap. As per usual, it was perfect, and Tenten sighed blissfully as the water washed away the sweat, dirt and blood she'd accumulated over the past hour. When the water stopped running off her body with a telltale pinkish hue, she opened the tiny bottle of unscented shampoo and washed her hair. It was not the only sign that something was definitely wrong with her, but Tenten secretly liked the products provided for them at work. They did the job, and were untraceable, in a sense.

Tenten finished quickly, and towelled herself dry, dressing in the clothes she had come to work in, and blow dried her hair. The room's thermostat was set to speed up the process and she was ready to leave in ten minutes.

She walked out of the bathroom, and Hibi was ready for her at quarter past, handing her a pair of black pumps and her leather hand bag.

"Date tonight, huh? Take exit forty five. It's closer to where you live."

"Thanks Hibi. Have a good weekend," Tenten smiled as she hurried to the lift. It opened as she approached, and she turned and waved at the girl before she stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

"You don't want to be a replacement, huh?" Hibi looked over at Sasuke as he watched Tenten leave. "You know who her date tonight is, don't you?"

"Ino could barely keep her mouth shut," Sasuke replied tersely. "It's a one time thing."

"What if it turns out to be a one night kind of thing?" Hibi shot back. "Are you okay with that? Seriously, Sasuke… you've been trying to get her for the past two years. She's not the brightest light around here but she'd notice you trying to get into her pants if she was thinking the same thing about you. If things go like I think they will…"

"It's not the end yet," he said quietly. "Thanks for the advice, Hibi."

"Night, Sasuke-kun!" she replied with a girlish giggle, mocking him. No one else looked twice at the man leaving the room. He was always invisible to them, anyway.

19:30 October 29. Apartment 2017, The Grand Galleria, Odaiba, Tokyo.

Tenten arrived home at half past seven. Her date would be here any minute now, but she was glad she had planned ahead and chosen something to wear the night before. It was a sterling grey dress that shimmered in the light and covered her shoulders and any old scars on her chest.

She took off her clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper she kept in her bathroom and slipped into the dress. She paused to look at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing out the crinkles in the fabric. A loud ring made her jump and she looked over at the red phone on her bed side table.

She picked it up, and hesitated before she finally answered after the fourth ring. Her apartment phone rang and she left her bedroom to let her date up.

"What is it?" she snapped.

There was no response for a few, painfully drawn out moments. "So much for a warm greeting. Do you miss me at all?"

"You said this phone was for us. And after 'us' ended, it was for emergencies. When you ended up in hospital six months ago, you didn't think to call me then. So, are you bleeding to death in an alleyway somewhere right now?"

"You're cold, Tenten. I'm cut."

"Cut to the chase," she spat, putting on her shoes. "I'm running late and I'm about to leave the apartment."

"You sound out of breath. Did you just get home from work?"

"Yes. I don't have time for a chat."

There was a knock at the door, and she sighed.

"Listen… I really…" she hesitated. "Thanks for calling. I'm sorry if... that I just don't have time today. Goodbye."

She didn't wait for a response, and hung up, placing the phone on her kitchen table. Tenten walked over to her closet and picked out a trench coat. The man knocked again and she checked her reflection one last time before she opened the door.

"Good evening, hope –" she said, with a smile. It died abruptly as she met his silvery eyes. He was leaning casually against her doorframe and her eyes moved instinctively to his left wrist, where she knew she would find a pale green brand. Tattoo, she corrected herself automatically.

"Long time no see," he replied. "You look lovely. Shall we go?"

"Piss off," she said, turning and slamming the door shut on him. He was quick to intercept the door, stopping it smoothly with well honed reflexes. He walked into her apartment breezily, even taking off his shoes and setting them neatly next to hers, perfectly parallel. They didn't look out of place.

With a sigh, she threw her jacket onto the couch and headed for the kitchen, leaving her shoes on. She liked the sound they made on her kitchen floorboards.

"Shoes on, leaving your coat lying around… you didn't even have a bag when you answered the door."

"I was going to make you wait while I sorted one out."

He was standing in the middle of her lounge now, hands behind his back as he looked around, surveying the very few changes that had taken place in her apartment in his absence.

"Still working?"

"Of course," she snapped, opening the fridge. It was well-stocked, and she grabbed a bottle of beer and pried the lid open with a bottle opener.

"Drinking on an empty stomach?"

"Want one?"

"No, thank you."

"Good." She took a generous gulp and slammed the bottle back down on the counter. "I wasn't going to give you one." Tenten kicked off her heels, leaving them where they fell. "I can't believe that woman. Two faced, betraying _bitch_!" Her voice turned shrill and she left the kitchen, beer bottle in hand. It was cool, but not enough to help her anger. "What are you doing here?" she asked, finally turning her wrath to him. "After two years, you decided to just call me up out of the blue?"

"There wasn't just that phone call. I was on that Sun... thing with Ken and Momo a few days ago."

"A publicity stunt. You think you could reach me by television, and spout all that shit about a unique woman whom you know inside and out?" Tenten's brow furrowed and she clenched her fist. "I can't believe you! How dare you think that you can come waltzing back in here like no time has passed?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why are you here? You'd better not be looking for a one-night stand, Hyuuga, because I will make sure that you never have one of those ever again."

He smirked. "You wouldn't."

Tenten rewarded his comment with a withering glare. "Do _not_ fuck with me. I will make sure you regret it." She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, closing her eyes. He fell silent as she counted to ten in her head, and the anger began to subside. Fractionally.

"It's not that I'm not happy to see you – oh wait, that's a lie – but I would really love for you to leave right now," she said, eyes still closed. She left him standing in the middle of her lounge room, and headed for her bedroom, and fell face first onto the bed, her head spiralling.

Here, now after how long? Her long lost heart, close enough to touch? Was he here to collect his heart from her? Had she even had it in the first place? She knew for sure that she'd given him her own. Either way, it was pointless. He was going to leave, and that would be the end of it.

A low chuckle. "That's a lie, and you know it." Soft footsteps on the rug, and the mattress shifted as he lay down beside her. "You still talk to yourself."

"I still keep a gun under my pillow."

"No, not for tonight. Just in case."

She could hear him smirking. "I thought I told you to go away."

"Yes, with far more colourful terms," he replied simply.

"So why aren't you obeying?"

"Since when have I ever been good at obeying orders?"

Great point, Prodigy. She sighed. She was exhausted from such a crazy day. Now that the rage had left her system, she was physically and emotionally worn.

"This dress… I don't really like," he said suddenly, as if to fill the silence. "It hides who you really are."

"I still keep guns in the drawers."

"Noted." The mattress shifted again and she knew he was staring up at the ceiling, hands laced beneath his head. "It was never anyone's fault, you know. If I could have made the choice, I'd still be with you."

She was silent.

"You told me that you'd always understand."

"I did. I still do. I just didn't expect it to…"

"Hurt as much as it did?" he finished for her. "Not a day has gone by where... my first thought when I wake up, and the last before I sleep, hasn't been of you."

"Pretty words," she laughed, and she knew she sounded hollow and bitter. "They trained you well, didn't they? They say 'jump', and now you ask, 'how high?' Getting bored of your high class life?" She surrendered and rolled over onto her side so she could look at him. It was oddly… intimate. Comfortable. And, like always, all too rational. The fifteen minutes that had preceded this was the anomaly. "Normally it's the reverse. I talk, you listen."

"Perhaps now is a good time for things to change," he replied. He turned onto his side so he could face her, his hair spilling over his shoulder onto her sheets, and she suddenly felt like she had no will of her own as he placed a hand on her arm and gently pushed her back onto the bed, sliding over so he could render all words superfluous with a soul wrenching kiss, and Tenten knew he couldn't lie.

It was like a key turning in a lock and suddenly, Tenten found herself wrapping her arms around him, her leg hooked over his waist and his lips remained a burning sear against her skin. He pulled away for air, and stroked her hair away from her face, his lips tracing her hairline as he breathed in her scent.

Finally, after two years, she allowed herself to think and say his name.

"Neji… I missed you."


	4. Dragon: The First Scroll

**A/N: **Good morning everyone! Not only is this a bit late, this is also a little back story I decided to shade in, in between chapters. This is a semi-side story, I guess. Also, in other news, I will be updating next week as well, as well as in the last... two weeks of January, so keep your eyes peeled and waiting for more _Syndicate_ goodies!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

Dragon: The First Scroll

Tenten hated this room. The paint was cracked and peeling and the furniture was old and creaky. The bookshelves were covered in dust and the smell of mothballs pervaded the air. Summer was well and truly on its way and her skirt was sticking to the back of her legs – the stern man who ran the orphanage didn't believe in unnecessary expenditures.

"Tenten," Hirai Kichirou said slowly. She was never sure if he was addressing her, or if he was just saying her name. He was looking at some forms and was only half paying attention to her.

"Yes, sir." Tenten waited patiently, her posture straight. She tried not to fiddle with her skirt.

"You have no relatives."

"No, sir." This was an established fact, she knew. It was the reason why she was living in this orphanage. It was the reason why her classmates ignored her and followed her almost all of the way back to this place, kicking stones at her feet and calling her names.

"How are your studies?"

This was surprising. She tried not to look up at the sudden question, and something betrayed her. She managed to keep her eyes downcast. Had one of her teachers said something?

"They are going well, sir."

"Evidently," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He leaned against steeped fingers. "You have been offered a place in a prestigious summer program in Tokyo this year as a result of a test you did a few months ago."

"I... I see." Tenten stammered. She knew that she wasn't particularly book smart. She was better at using her hands and could run as fast as some of the other boys around the orphanage.

"But the rest, I leave for the program co-ordinator to explain to you," Kichirou finally stopped shuffling his papers and stood up. "She is waiting for you in the meeting room." Tenten stood and bowed before letting herself out of the small office and made her way down the corridor, smiling at the children who ran past her, laughing.

After taking a deep breath, she knocked at the door of the meeting room.

"Enter."

A woman's voice.

After a pause, Tenten opened the door. Seated at the table was a blonde woman, her hair in pigtails. She wore a green dress that was cut too low, and she had a mark on her forehead. Something about her, however, seemed to radiate power. She knew exactly who she was and how to get what she wanted – Tenten knew.

"Please sit down, Tenten."

The girl obeyed wordlessly and shut the door behind her before sitting in the chair opposite her.

"My name is Tsunade. I'm here to talk to you today about a program you've been selected to participate in this summer."

From the first moment she'd seen her, Tenten knew she would do anything this woman said.

"You've been hand picked out of all of the schools in the entire Kantou region to participate in a program for gifted and talented individuals like yourself." Tsunade did not fuss with notes as if Tenten was a waste of her time; she spoke clearly to her as if she was an adult. She liked that. "You are in middle school currently. Have you decided on what high school you would like to go to?"

"Not yet, Tsunade-sama."

Tsunade hid a smile behind a hand and regarded her with bemused eyes. "How would you feel about leaving Kanagawa?"

A year ago, she would have outright refused. Now...

"I will do whatever you feel is best." Tenten replied automatically.

At this, Tsunade laughed, and the girl blushed self-consciously. "You are also being considered for our mentoring program, if your performance in the summer program goes well."

"A mentor...?"

"The program means you will leave Kanagawa and begin the new term at a new school in Tokyo. You will be assigned a mentor who would look after you, but you would otherwise be completely independent. Your needs will be provided for until you graduate from high school. At which point, you can decide to either join my company, or do as you see fit."

"Do I... May I consider your offer?"

Tsunade smiled. "I realise this is a lot to process currently. You have the entire summer to think about this – if you perform as well as I hope you will in the summer program, I will take your answer as an affirmative." She handed Tenten some glossy pamphlets and the girl bowed before accepting them. "Just come to the summer session for now. You will enjoy it more than you think."

As Tsunade left, a young, fifteen year old Tenten watched her leave from the front door and knew that her life was about to change forever.

"How about... we just introduce ourselves for now?"

"I'm Tenten, and I'm from Kanagawa."

"Hyuuga Neji. I live in Tokyo."

"Rock Lee. I live in Saitama."

Silence fell.

They made a funny kind of trio, Tenten thought. A young girl, not exactly Japanese, hair styled in two buns atop her head, wearing a high collared shirt she'd bought a long time ago. Two young boys, one deciding to opt for casual track pants and a loose shirt, hair shoulder length and half-bound by a headband. The other, the most striking of them all – delicate features, long hair, fine boned hands and most surprisingly, clear, grey eyes with pale pupils. One look and Tenten knew he came from money. He definitely acted like it, too.

They were sitting in a small alcove that over looked the camp's extensive fields. Tenten had known that the program took students of all ages from all schools across the Kantou region, but she hadn't realised there would be so many... people. This small team she'd been assigned to based on test scores – but she didn't really know _how_. Hyuuga Neji had, rumour had it, scored full marks on all sections in the test. Rock Lee had failed one section but had still made it here. Tenten... was an average student – just how had they all made it in?

The silver eyed Hyuuga gave her a funny look. "You have a bad habit of talking aloud."

"Oh, really? I didn't notice," Tenten said, looking away.

The Hyuuga sighed. "Think about it. Some of the questions in the test were similar, but at the same time different to the others. They tested a specific way of thinking; but they slipped them in with all of the others to see who would be able to answer all of them. Even the idiot who failed the test could get into this program if they answered the right questions. It's not about how smart you are, clearly. You two wouldn't have even-"

"Good morning my youthful students!" Their instructor and leader, Maito Gai burst into the alcove wearing a forest green tracksuit and a blinding smile that seemed to _ping_ in the sunlight. He pointed at each of them and recited their names.

"Neji, Tenten, Lee! I have a feeling we are all going to get along very well! Remember each other's faces because you will be seeing each other every year for the next four years if all goes well." His face turned serious. "Tenten, I would like to speak with you later."

Tenten nodded, and he smiled and clapped Lee on the shoulder.

"Now! Dreams. Let's hear them!"

. . .

Tenten had hoped for a mentor who was a woman. Secretly, she'd hoped for Tsunade, but then she'd found out that Tsunade had left the company a few weeks after coming to see her. Gai-sensei had understood her concerns but said that, ultimately, the choice would lie with the Director at the end of the day.

Which was how Maito Gai had ended up being her guardian.

A few days before the camp had ended, Team Gai (as they'd affectionately been named by their namesake) helped Tenten move her belongings from the dormitories at the camp to her new apartment. Meaning, Lee had carried her lone suitcase up the several flights of stairs until they reached a tiny apartment with one bedroom, one bathroom, half a kitchen and two thirds of a living room, fully furnished.

"It's not much... but once you turn eighteen you can choose to move anywhere you like. This is just more convenient for everyone right now," Gai reassured her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Only if I decide to stay with the company, right?"

Gai nodded.

"I've been wondering," Lee said suddenly, "who do you work for, sensei? We've heard a lot about the company and how wonderful it is, but no one has actually mentioned a name..."

"It's a government... organisation," Gai said slowly. "You will find out next week, maybe."

They all turned to look out her tiny window and Gai smiled. "I live down the road," he pointed to a tall building and Tenten swallowed. "And your school is down that way. You don't even need to catch the bus or train."

"I see," she said evenly. "An all girls' school?" Her eyes were quite sharp, more than enough to rival Neji's.

"Only the best!" He gave her a trade mark thumbs up and she smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Gai-sensei." Tenten bowed formally, and he laughed.

"It's nothing, don't worry!" He turned abruptly. "And now! A celebratory meal!"

Tenten smiled. "I'll be right out."

Lee and Gai-sensei paraded out, loudly discussing where they were going to eat, and Tenten sighed as she shut the window, starting when she realised Neji was still in the room, despite having contributed nothing to the previous conversation.

"You're not happy," he remarked. How was it that this boy, who hardly knew her, could see straight through her?

"I... am," Tenten tried to reason half heartedly. "It's different."

"Different is buying a new brand of shampoo and conditioner. This is..."

"Life changing?" she smiled, running her finger over the counter top as she walked into the tiny kitchen. "I'm an orphan. It's the best thing I could have hoped for. No siblings, no family's reputation to ruin, no strict parents. It's going to be a blast!"

So hollow and fake, even to her own ears. She didn't even know why she was saying this, especially to him. Neji's eyes narrowed.

"You know you're going to be bound to this company for the rest of your life," he said quietly. "Even if you want to get out, they can break you because of this."

"I don't think they can," Tenten said fiercely. "I won't let them."

He smirked. "They gave you this life. They can take it away, just as quickly. They will work you to the bone until your life leaves your body and you wander about like a ghost, mindlessly following orders-"

"Do you have a particular point, Hyuuga? I recall that this is my decision and not yours."

"You're good at doing what you're told," Neji said, crossing his arms. "You'll end up someone's lapdog at this rate."

"And you're extremely talented at being an ass," Tenten snapped, grabbing her new keys before storming out of the apartment.

. . .

The following summer, Tenten met up with her group mates once more. She'd seen Neji and Lee in passing, by chance, a few times throughout the year. Lee had been ecstatic, Neji courteous and formal. It appeared he had not taken offence to what she had said. They'd been on the train, in the peak hour rush, both heading to locations they hadn't divulged to the other. Tenten hadn't been able to find something to hang on to, but didn't mind. What she did mind, though, was being forced to stand so close to the Hyuuga.

"Umm... I'm sorry," she said suddenly, awkwardly. His hand brushed against her side and she shifted. "For what I said that time..."

He turned his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Err. At the apartment, that day... I said some things when I lost my temper." The train shifted and click-clacked over the tracks, and she kept feeling her shoulder brush against his – or was it the other way around? Neji smirked and she almost screamed at him. He was, she had to admit, one of the most infuriating people she had ever met.

"Ahh. That." He shook his head and looked away as if to hide a smile. But that wasn't possible. "Well, everyone does things they regret."

Tenten stared. "And what do you regret?"

Neji sighed and stared out the window. "Nothing." A voice announced the name of the station as the train slowed to a stop and the Hyuuga murmured a quiet goodbye (a raised hand impossible in this situation) before managing to navigate his way outside of the compartment onto the platform. It was funny, strangers shied away from him – he didn't need to press through a crowd of people, they flowed around him. Tenten exhaled and she could have sworn she saw him smile faintly at her through a mass of people. Then he vanished.

They didn't bring it up that summer, but the program had expanded to include self defence training. Tenten thought that Lee was just using it as an excuse to fight Neji to prove that his hard work could surpass Neji's surprising natural talent.

When Gai had remarked on it, Neji had shrugged. "I'm more surprised that you've brought it up," he said mildly. "Considering you know much of my family."

Tenten was left puzzled and frustrated, as per usual – how was it that Neji knew more than the rest of them? Why wasn't he allowed to tell them?

She addressed the topic one evening as they shut the windows in the dojo styled training room. He made a sound that was suspiciously like a chuckle and Tenten looked at him incredulously. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, that's just... a silly question. Don't you have any idea what's going on in here? That logo over there is highly classified in itself. You won't find it anywhere on the internet or any public records. Even if I told you the name of the company that sponsors this program, not only would you not know what I was talking about, you wouldn't believe me. There's no point in telling a child about the world if they cannot grasp how big the world is."

Tenten almost snarled at him, choosing instead to walk past him, trying to smack him on the back of his head as she passed. The prodigy had predicted this, and ducked smoothly, prompting Tenten to scowl and strike the side of her hand against his chest, the blow landing with a loud thud. He merely stared at her and she turned and stalked off, inexplicably angry.

. . .

That second year, Tenten realised that she had met Uchiha Sasuke many times throughout the year. The first time she had actually talked to him, she had been at a fruit stall in a market somewhere (the name slipped her mind all the time) and she had been buying some apples. The woman running the stall had set up a strange arrangement, selling apples not by weight but by number. In essence, she was better off buying far more than she wanted but she knew she wouldn't be able to finish them.

The teen next to her understood her dilemma, smirking and shaking his head before packing the extra apples into her bag as he slipped some coins into her hand. Tenten looked over, shocked and numbly handed the woman the coins.

"... Thank you," she said, bowing.

"... Don't mention it. We both win like this." He smirked and held out his hand. She straightened, blushing and gave him his apples before watching him disappear, a hand raised as the other brought the red apple to his lips.

Tenten had seen him munching on a bright green apple a few months later, waiting at the train station. Onyx eyes, spiked black hair, precise hands... but he had coolly disregarded her across the distance, and she'd turned away before hurrying towards the exit.

The time after that, it had been at a mock skirmish at their summer camp. He was a year younger than they were, Tenten learned. The top of his classes, it seemed. An orphan. No friends, not even in his team (but then again, who really was?). Uchiha Sasuke.

Tenten stopped dead in her tracks as they passed each other in the corridor. She was with Neji and Lee at the time, dressed in their paintball gear. Sasuke cocked his head to the side, tossing her a bright green apple without even looking in her direction before blatantly stating that he would defeat Neji.

Tenten had only been able to stare at him, and was silent, even after he left.

"Do you think he would do it?" Lee asked, almost worried.

"Don't insult me," Neji sighed. "I am still in the room."

"Not that... it's just against the rules to engage in physical conduct outside training, or without a cell leader present."

Neji regarded him with cool eyes. "And you should know all about that." Lee's mouth set in a thin line and he looked away. "You're rather quiet, Tenten." Their silent exchange had most definitely not gone unnoticed by her team mates. "Do you know the Uchiha?"

"I've... seen him around." Not a lie. She turned the apple over in her hands. She took a bite into it and the flavour surprised her. They were from a country in the southern hemisphere. They grew all year round and were crisp and a bit sour; not quite like the Fuji apples she was used to. Different, but pleasant all the same.

"Have you told him anything?"

She swallowed and managed to scoff. "I didn't betray you, if that's what you're asking." Tenten respected Neji, in a fashion, but honestly, he clearly took things too seriously. He talked about this like it was a matter of life and death.

"Good. Now. Have you decided on your call signal?"

"... Dragon," she said quietly. She'd written the kanji on the small slip of paper Gai-sensei had given to her. "You?"

"Prodigy."

She rolled her eyes, imagining the katakana written in his neat handwriting. "Typical." Even so, she had to hide a smile. It did suit him, even if she had yet to call him that.

. . .

Tenten was going to start her last year of high school after this summer. There would be one more summer program running after her graduation, but after that... that's when she would have to make the decision. Would she stay with Konoha? Neji had been right, after all – no one knew anything about Konoha, no one even really knew much about this summer program, other than what had been divulged in the pamphlet. A challenging summer program for gifted and talented students! With prospects of establishing a firm career right after high school or university!

Neji seemed pretty set on staying with the firm, despite his earlier tirade (one that she'd always remember but never bring up). There was something else to the story, something about his family that he wasn't telling them, but she didn't really mind. It wasn't her business anyway.

This year, new recruits had a crash course on everything that returning candidates already knew. The paintball skirmish was handled with as much playful seriousness as usual, and classes moved away from self defence to a more... proactive stance. Their classes went further into history – modern and ancient – on worldwide politics and warfare. Geography classes pushed them to the brink of the earth and back, across seas to exotic lands and complex languages. Neji already knew a good handful of languages; besides Japanese, there was English, Mandarin, Cantonese, Korean and a myriad of European languages including French, Spanish and German. Tenten had learned English at her school and was starting Mandarin, but it still wasn't enough.

"Have you figured it out yet?"

Tenten looked up from her book. They were sitting at a cafe (dorms were only for students who lived further away from Tokyo) late at night and poring over textbooks borrowed from a university that one of Neji's cousins attended.

"What?" she said sleepily, yawning and stretching. "I think that my translation is correct. This word, ummm... 'assassination' we say it like-"

"Not that," Neji said irritably, downing his third macchiato that evening. He was picking over his own assignment, admittedly more complex than her translation exercise. The problem with her composition was the length of the original document, Neji had to write his own essay from scratch. "The true purpose," he said evenly, "of this program we got tangled into."

Tenten shook her head. "I'm not too concerned."

"Why?"

"Well," she sighed and took out the two hair ties that held her hair in its customary hairstyle and closed her eyes as the tension in her scalp was relieved. "If it really were a bad place to be, why are there so many people involved? Where is this funding from? The government would have found something suspicious about an organisation pulling in children across Japan through a centrally conducted examination unless they knew about it. So... the only thing I can think of is that Konoha is some... off the records kind of intelligence group."

Neji smirked and Tenten noticed the tremor in his fingers. She would need to stop him from ordering more coffee. His eyes were steady as he replied, "Well done. Now think. Why do they need _children_?"

To grow them... into whatever they wanted them to be.

Tenten stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued with her work. Neji followed her lead and they didn't say a single word until they left the cafe.

He walked her to her apartment and they stood outside, rubbing their eyes for a moment, shuffling awkwardly. A young mother and her child burst out of the lobby, the child pointing at them and shouting, "Look, it's a couple!"

Tenten smiled and bowed at the woman, bidding her a quiet greeting. The woman only gave her a dirty look and hurried off. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, pushing her fringe back off her forehead. She looked up at Neji, who was smirking with bemusement (the closest he could get to a smile, she supposed) and he placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning towards her for a slow, greedy, _very_ adult kiss. He stole her breath from her and she could only stand there, completely surprised and afraid to move.

When at last he drew away, Tenten was aware of the fact that they were standing outside her apartment (Gai most likely looking on from afar, no doubt!) and that Hyuuga Neji, who had about as much emotion as a stone, had just kissed her. On the mouth. With... well. Not as clumsy as she thought he'd be. But still.

A _kiss_. Her first adult kiss, thrumming with passion and intent, darkened by desire...

She blinked up at him, still wondering if she had somehow fallen asleep at the cafe, but he merely lifted his left hand, a tattoo unveiling itself from underneath his sleeve, to stroke a hand through her hair, mimicking the motion she'd just done moments before.

"You should wear your hair out more."

She was still speechless, and couldn't muster any kind of intelligible response.

He dropped his hand, his back stiff and his eyes completely unreadable.

And then Tenten realised what a mistake she'd made.

"Goodnight, Tenten. I'll look over what you've written tomorrow before class," Neji said abruptly, walking past her without waiting for an answer.

The next ten hours were excruciating, to say the least. Tenten turned up at her class the next morning, dark circles under her eyes and her hair braided messily on the way to the train station. She'd run onto her usual train, and Neji had boarded at the next stop, but was painfully silent as he read over her essay.

"Your interpretation is correct and your analysis is thoughtful."

"But..." Tenten prompted.

"That's all," he replied stonily, handing her work back to her.

"A rare compliment," she tried to smile to ease the tension but it wasn't helping. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Drinking coffee late at night hadn't really helped, but Neji looked like he had slept fine in spite of the caffeine and... apparent rejection. "Listen, Neji-"

"Save it," he snapped, getting uncharacteristically angry. "I don't want to get into it now."

"And... what if I want to talk about it now? You weren't too interested in talking yesterday, so do me this favour now."

No response, and Tenten took it as an affirmative.

"It was... sudden. That's all. I hadn't thought that... you felt that way." Tenten mumbled, blushing. "I'm sorry I reacted like that."

"It won't happen again," he replied. "You don't need to worry."

Their relationship, even as something more than acquaintances, was happening in starts and stops, these prolonged absences and then this long period of time spent together after a year of chance encounters... Tenten attended a girls' academy; there was no circumstances where she would really be able to meet other boys (not that she particularly minded) and she wasn't really a fan of dating, either. She'd tried it once or twice, but it wasn't particularly her "scene". Neji didn't occupy her thoughts all of the time, like a lovesick teenager, but she knew that this event had blurred things, significantly. She'd often thought of him with mixed emotions – some warmth as he was her team mate, perhaps a friend and then a measure of irritation at his constant non-antics (she saw them as antics but they really were habits he couldn't really control). To find out so suddenly that he saw her in that kind of a light was surprising to say the least. Tenten shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was a train of thought she'd ridden for the past eight hours, the entire thing keeping her up at night.

"You didn't sleep well?" He asked finally, breaking the silence. He was teasing her, she knew. Tenten sighed.

"Don't flatter yourself, Hyuuga," she snapped. "I was doing this homework."

He shrugged and she smiled, unable to help herself. Perhaps working with him wouldn't be as bad as she thought.


	5. A Different Life

**AN**: And now we skip back to the present... :D This is the last you'll be hearing from me for about a month (on this fic, at least) but I hope everyone has a great and well deserved holiday!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Four – A Different Life_

22:45 October 29. Apartment 2017, The Grand Galleria, Odaiba, Tokyo.

At this point, it was hard to believe that they'd been separated for two years. As per their usual Friday nights, they were lying on the couch, eating Chinese food out of takeaway boxes and half watching TV as they read magazines or simply enjoyed each others' company.

"Did you have a table booked somewhere?" Tenten asked. She was wearing Neji's shirt. He still used the same cologne – every breath was nostalgia in itself.

"Yeah – one of those private rooms at Wagaya. They're a bunch of snobs anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Tenten smiled. She picked through the noodles and, finding nothing of interest, abandoned it and left it on the coffee table.

"Have you become a picky eater, then?"

Neji was propped up against the arm rest, reading a magazine. He was wearing some old clothes – a pair of tracksuit pants. She'd never bothered trying to return it. No one had really said much as Tenten dug up the box from the closet near the door. The fact that she hadn't thrown them out spoke enough for her anyway.

"Would that bother you?" she stared at his broody, pensive face on the glossy cover. He lowered the magazine to reveal a complete opposite expression, and she couldn't help but laugh. "You really have taken narcissism to a whole new level."

"I'm just… curious to see how they wrote about me."

"No one can stop singing your praises. Not unless you do something horrendous. Even then, Sadako would work her magic and you'd pull a complete Hinata."

He cleared his throat, and she smiled. "Naruto," she corrected herself apologetically.

Until a few years ago, when Sadako had managed to get her hands on the governor's son, Uzumaki Naruto, he'd been a 'ridiculous brat and terrible influence' (Neji's words) on Hinata, Neji's cousin. Drunken escapades and indulging in other scandalous behaviour in public did not reflect well on an heiress' character. Sadako had intervened, and marched over and pretty much slapped a bit of sense into the adults around him. With the aid of a few good magazine articles and a good handful of rumours, Naruto and Hinata had basically turned into the golden couple of the century. (The next challenge, of course, was Hanabi, Hinata's younger sister.)

Tenten had met the couple a few times before. They'd worked at Konoha for a few years but Hinata had been forced to retire from active duty – being in the papers all the time didn't exactly work for a spy. It had been the same thing with Neji, too…

"Hey…" Tenten crawled up the couch so she could straddle his waist.

Neji put the magazine face down on the coffee table and arched an eyebrow. "Again? That's adventurous."

"Shut up. I want to ask you a question."

"You want to ask me a question, wearing only my shirt, and sitting in my lap like this, and you think that my mind shouldn't automatically jump to that kind of thing?"He smirked. "I had no idea the world worked that way, but please, continue."

"You were just getting worried about keeping up," she shot back, grinning. "I'm trying to be serious here."

Neji cleared his throat and placed his hands on her hips, tracing small circles across her skin beneath her shirt.

"Do you think that… do you ever wish that we could have had a proper life?" She placed her hands on his shoulders and played with the ends of his hair.

"Proper?" he echoed, hands stilling.

"Yeah… like… a life where we were ignorant of all of this … spy stuff."

"A life where I could be with you without you getting paranoid your face would end up on a tabloid magazine?" He thought about it for a few seconds. "What kind of a question is that?"

Tenten sighed. "Time away from working really has killed your braincells, hasn't it?"

"It's a stupid question because I didn't think you'd have to ask," Neji said solemnly. "I'd want nothing else if you... well, felt it your duty to protect our country. A different life… Would you ride a pushbike?"

She laughed. "Of course. Would you mow the lawn?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Neji raised his hands as he cupped her face, guiding her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Yet another apology.

09:45 October 30. Apartment 2017, The Grand Galleria, Odaiba, Tokyo.

Tenten opened her eyes, her hand instinctively searching for someone to be in her bed. Like always, she came up short and she woke swiftly, reacting quickly with a kind of dulled panic. This always happened – he would never be able to stay the night, always leaving without a goodbye, even when they had been together. She swore quietly to herself as she pulled on her clothes. Her dress was hanging up on the back of the door, but Neji's clothes were completely gone.

Tenten heard a noise from the kitchen and tensed. She opened her bed side drawer silently and picked up her pistol, the weight familiar and cool in her hands. With practised ease, Tenten screwed the silencer on and she clicked the safety. Taking a deep breath, the spy opened her bedroom door, keeping low and out of sight.

There was someone in her house – they were wearing a grey, hooded jumper and rummaging around in her pantry, perilously close to one of her many stash of weapons, and a mini cache of cash. They were good. Running across the lounge in light, silent bounds, Tenten crossed the floor of her apartment, and landing with a roll, pulled the gun effortlessly on the intruder.

"Freeze."

They obeyed. "Drop whatever it is you're holding and turn around to face me, slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them," she commanded, her voice clear.

The person turned around, and lowered the hood, a little too quickly for Tenten's liking and –

"Oh, it's you."

"Good morning," Neji replied, scoffing, waving a jar of instant coffee at her. "You sound disappointed. Should I drop this anyway?"

Tenten lowered the gun and placed it on the counter, relief flooding through her. "I just…" she said, eyes downcast, embarrassed at the reveal. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I wasn't expecting you to _still_ keep a gun, some magazines and a smoke grenade in a fake jar of flour," he replied. "Coffee? Or will it be hot chocolate?"

Tenten smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Both." She looked at the kitchen counter, seeing things she definitely had not purchased in the past few months at least – flour, eggs, various seasonal fruits, yoghurt and a few blocks of chocolate. Suddenly, the hooded jumper made a bit of sense.

"You didn't run into any problems at the store, did you?"

"The cashier was half dead from the night shift."

"Wait…" Tenten frowned. "When did you wake up?"

"About five. I went for a swim and went home to change," Neji returned to the pantry and continued to rummage around, and returned with sugar. "You actually woke up and said something to me, but then you went to sleep right after."

She scoffed. "As if I would do something like that."

"No, really," he protested. He turned to face her, eyes half open in mockery. "'Neji… don't forget to buy waffles… and gunpowder. We need to stop… the snails,'" he mumbled.

She scowled, fighting a smile at his imitation, and hit his shoulder. "I didn't say that."

"Believe me, you did," Neji said, smirking. "So, other than waffles and gunpowder, what would you like for breakfast?"

"What are you making?" Tenten looked at the array of ingredients. "Pancakes?"

She sat down at the table and paused when she heard one of her phones ringing. It was still in her handbag – she hadn't even bothered to check it since yesterday.

"It's the office," Neji said, surprising her. "You still use the same ringtone. Are you going to answer it?"

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Tenten sighed, and ran over to answer the phone. It was Sasuke.

"Good morning... Prodigy," she said quietly, acutely aware that Neji had looked up at her. She walked quickly into her bedroom.

"Good morning, Tenten. I didn't know we were using codenames on a secure line."

Tenten bit her lip and changed the subject. "Working on a Saturday morning? Isn't that kind of… rare?"

A chuckle. "Nice try. You have a briefing at noon. The director's going to be there. I just thought I'd call you just in case you didn't check your messages, so look... presentable."

"I always look presentable, what are you talking about?" Tenten straightened out her sheets and sat down, running a hand absent-mindedly through her hair.

"I just… never mind."

There was a pregnant pause.

"What do you want to ask?" Tenten asked, sensing that there was another reason why he had called. Hesitation usually signified something like this, especially with Sasuke, for some reason.

"Apples," Sasuke began, somewhat cryptically. "Do you still like apples?"

She laughed. "I still like apples."

"Great. Well… I'll see you later, then." Sasuke sounded oddly relieved, and Tenten shook her head as she hung up. Now, for damage control…

Neji was indeed making pancakes when she left her bedroom, now fully dressed. He frowned.

"Are you leaving now?" He asked, pausing.

She shook her head and smiled. "It's fine. I have a meeting at twelve, so we have an hour."

He had used up the last of the batter while she'd been changing and slid the finished pancake onto her plate. They sat down at the bench, Tenten's toes grazing the bottom rung of the stool. It didn't take long for Neji to raise the issue that had been bothering him for the past fifteen minutes.

"Prodigy?" he echoed softly, abruptly switching the topic.

Tenten almost choked on her coffee. She was getting sloppy – she'd even anticipated this. "Yeah."

"Who is he?"

"You don't know him," she replied. It was a lie and he knew it. Neji watched her for a few moments, wondering why she seemed so... tense. A few years ago, she would never have thought about lying to him. Now, however... he turned away and continued to pick at his pancakes. He'd already eaten all of the fruit on his plate.

"There's no one else who thinks that he would be deserving of that name unless he was an idiot… or Uchiha Sasuke," Neji said, his eyes hidden from her. "Since the Uchiha is, in fact an idiot, I'm not that surprised. But didn't he go rogue?"

Tenten was silent for a moment. The thought of confidentiality crossed her mind, but she dismissed it. Neji would call her out on her answer anyway; she'd all but admitted he was right, even before he had guessed who the new 'Prodigy' was. "He was welcomed back into the fold. Not with welcome arms, but he's back in at least."

"Why? Because of his 'network'?" The Hyuuga scoffed, finally setting his fork down. "The fact that he's based in Tokyo now is a bit of a tip-off that he's back with Konoha."

"You're really touchy about this, aren't you?" Tenten smiled. He hadn't been jealous in a long time. Of course, the last person to suffer his wrath had been wiped off the face of the earth (some ill-begotten misadventure in a club).

Furthermore, it hadn't really helped that Neji had been dispatched to retrieve Sasuke and had gotten into a near-fatal incident with Kidomaru, a first class operative from a large crime syndicate. The scars had remained, and the Hyuuga had a right to be resentful.

"Yes," Neji scowled. "Only when he starts thinking that he can claim things that are mine."

Tenten laughed coldly and set her cutlery down, meeting his eyes coldly. "You're mistaken if you think that I'm something you can claim, Hyuuga."

"I wouldn't dare."

11:05 October 30. The Grand Galleria, Odaiba, Tokyo.

They stood in the foyer, holding hands somewhat tentatively. Public displays of affection had never really played a part in their relationship, whatever it was. They didn't like labels, either. Perhaps that was why...

Tenten ran her fingers over his wrist and he looked down at her as she traced the familiar path over indelible ink.

"What is it?"

"Nothing… I just…" There was something she hated about this. It was new, and it was something she'd never had to deal with before – he had always left before she'd had a chance to say goodbye again. But this…

He smirked as if reading her thoughts. "I'll see you tonight. We'll go out for a proper dinner."

"But what about…" She trailed off hesitantly.

Neji ran a hand through her hair and cupped her cheek. "Don't worry about a thing. I'm Hyuuga Neji, remember?"

She grinned. "That's why I worry, idiot."

He leaned down and kissed her chastely, and drew her close, and she couldn't help but feel like it was a farewell. Tenten cleared her throat as he pulled away.

"So… tonight, then?" She said, her fingers still twined with his.

"I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice."

"It's a promise."

Tenten let go of his hand, but Neji surprised her by grabbing her wrist again and pulling her back towards him, capturing her lips with a fiery kiss that left her weak in the knees and completely breathless. Just like their first.

"A promise," he echoed, squeezing her hand briefly before leaving the building, his hood covering his face and a hand raised in goodbye.

Tenten ran a finger over her lips and smiled faintly. It was then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror in the foyer.

"_Shit_."

11:45 October 30. Konoha Headquarters (Briefing Room 1), Tokyo.

Like Tenten had expected, everyone had been waiting for her when she turned up at eleven-forty. Sasuke, Lee, the director Tsunade and her secretary Shizune, Shikamaru and her mentor, Maito Gai were all sitting around a large, circular glass table engraved with the Konoha logo, and were sipping tea patiently.

Honestly, there was no point in making an appointment of any sort with these people because they always arrived twenty minutes early to meetings.

Sasuke arched an eyebrow at her as she sat down, smoothing her hair self consciously. "Run into any problems?"

"No, I just… No," she said finally.

"Over the past year, we've seen Operation: Wonderland grow, and we've followed trails of paper and blood, both hot and cold. Yesterday at eighteen hundred hours, we apprehended this man," Shikamaru began. A picture of Ryosuke appeared on one of the screens on the wall opposite the table and everyone turned to look. "He's currently in custody, and he has been very helpful, with the help of our information team."

They really liked euphemisms in her line of work, Tenten mused as Sasuke continued the briefing.

"The information that Tenten received yesterday has been confirmed – we haven't any leads yet, but we're confident we'll find at least a trace of Lucia. Sendai in itself is quite clean – there are a few underground syndicates, but none of them deal in this kind of trafficking," Sasuke said. "We're all familiar with the Lucia situation, and what little we know about it… well, this is a matter we need to resolve as soon as we can."

A few images passed by on the screen, and Tenten was familiar with them all – a few pictures of a happy family with a young, dark haired girl, shifty looking men on mobile phones and a snowflake logo.

Everyone turned to look at her, and she took a few seconds to register why.

"A deep… undercover mission?" She echoed numbly, staring at Tsunade.

"Correct," Tsunade said. "That is what I said. You will follow standard protocol. Your friends will be informed that you are moving."

Orphans made great spies. They had no family. No liabilities. That's why Sasuke was the best. He was ruthless because he had nothing to lose, whatsoever. His particular circumstances had made him brilliantly deadly – and, as Konoha had learned over the years, people with vengeance grudges needed to be kept on a short leash. Like many things, this measure had not worked on the last Uchiha.

"You will assume the persona of Inoue Miyako, a civilian from Yamanashi. Your profile is in this file. Please memorise the details and act as you see fit." Tsunade watched her from behind steeped fingers. "You are familiar with the appropriate protocols, Tenten? No one can know where you are going, or when you will be leaving. You will have no direct contact with anyone from Konoha while you are undercover and you will be completely on your own, unless certain circumstances arise."

Refusal, her eyes said coldly, is not an option.

Tenten stood and bowed. "It is an honour to accept this mission," she murmured.

Shizune slid the file across the table and Tenten opened it to find a photo, some papers and a shinkasen ticket. She sank into the chair quietly.

"Your trip details are in the file, as is your contact. She knows nothing of your mission, and is not related to our organisation in any way," Tsunade explained. "Do you understand?"

"I understand," Tenten said. She looked up and met the Director's eyes. "Tsunade-sama."

"Good. Well, this meeting is adjourned. Sasuke will run you through your personal effects," Tsunade stood and left the room, Shizune in tow.

"I'm leaving… today?" Tenten asked quietly, as Lee placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Is that a problem?" Shikamaru asked, holding the door open as the five of them filed out.

"No, no, I just…"

Sasuke caught the strain in her voice, as did Gai.

"Do not worry, my dear Tenten! You will succeed marvellously!" He placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close in a bone-breaking hug. Lee joined in.

"Be safe, okay?" Lee whispered in her ear. "I know you can't write to us, and I know you can take care of yourself, but…"

Tenten smiled and found herself becoming a bit misty-eyed. "Thanks, Lee."

The pair left them alone in the corridor, announcing they were going out for a farewell dinner (without a guest of honour, regrettably) and Shikamaru ruffled her hair.

"Quit it! I'm still older than you," she scowled, patting her hair down. "You're _still_ not good at talking to girls, are you?"

"I don't need to treat you like that, I'm ranked higher," Shikamaru shrugged.

"Marginally," she retorted. The three of them stopped in front of the elevator and she smiled. "Take care of Temari, that agent from the other cell," Tenten sighed. "Don't let her get into too much trouble… and save yourself the grief and take her out for dinner already, the next time she's in town."

Shikamaru shoved his hands in his pockets. "Geez, how troublesome," he mumbled, shoulders slumping. "Women are scary." He swiped his card at the panel and the lift on the far right opened almost instantaneously.

Tenten stared at him. "That's not fair! I have never seen that happen in my life-"

Sasuke pulled her into the elevator and she waved goodbye.

"But really, don't you think that's unfai-"

"Tenten." Sasuke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "What is it?" There was something off about his voice, but then she realised what it was – anger. Once again, he'd seen right through her facade.

Sasuke was always different, however. Always a bit of an enigma. At times, he was oddly warm, occasionally producing surges of emotion that caught her off guard. Every other waking moment, however, he was bound by protocol and his own flaws and multiple hang-ups. Tenten was never quite sure which one she preferred; she was used to aloofness, but the occasional reminder that the Uchiha was, in fact, a human was always comforting.

"Hmm?" Tenten fiddled with her hand bag and flipped through the meagre contents of her file. Stalling for time. It was funny, the games spies played with one another.

"You seem distracted." An understatement. Neither were looking at their own reflection, too preoccupied with the other to gauge their response.

She smiled, turning to him. "It's nothing. I'm kind of glad to be leaving, in fact. I'll be fine."

"Did something happen with your date?" Not an arrow in the dark – it had been aimed, with deadly precision. His voice had not lost its edge.

Tenten moved closer to the door so he couldn't see her face in the reflection of the mirrors. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing I didn't expect, you know?" She turned to face him with yet another smile, slightly less convincing than the last.

Sasuke uncrossed his arms as the doors opened and they stepped out into the same reception room only a day ago. To Tenten, it seemed like an age.

"Well… I'll wait," Sasuke said suddenly, sitting down near some magazines. He flipped them so they were face down, and Tenten nodded as she walked up to the reception desk and handed Hibi her handbag. It would probably end up back in her apartment, or be packed up into storage. No one really knew what happened to the lives of undercover agents when they were on mission… but Tenten suspected that, like everything else, their lives would be packed neatly into boxes and stored away somewhere else until they returned.

_If_ they ever returned.

Hibi handed her an outfit – it was a pleated, grey tartan skirt and a cream blouse made of a cool, slippery fabric with a ruffled tie and capped sleeves. She eyed it distastefully.

"This… is impractical," Tenten muttered.

"It's fashionable. It's also why you have these tights, a very cute beret, these tan boots and this scarf. Oh, and a coat. Those things are in room fifteen, which is a non showering room. If you'd like to keep your clothes, please put them in this box and return them to the counter on your way out. You also have an appointment in twenty minutes for a digital perm." Hibi signed a few papers and handed Tenten a large plastic box.

Tenten checked her ticket. She would be leaving at six, and arrive in Sendai around half past seven.

" It's all been planned out, I suppose."

She walked into the changing rooms and quickly changed into her new outfit, feeling a kind of anticipation wash over her, just like the start of every mission before she slipped into a new character. She would be wearing Inoue Miyako's skin for the next few months at the very least.

Tenten found that even underwear had been included with her outfit, and sighed as she stripped naked and dressed, putting her old clothes in individual bags. She put her shoes in the bottom, next to her handbag, and placed the clothes on top. Tenten smiled as she shut the lid.

"Goodbye, Tenten," Inoue Miyako said quietly, as she picked up the box and walked out of the room.


	6. Henge

**A/N: **Happy New Year, everyone! Thanks for reading, as always, and I hope you enjoy. :D

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Five – Henge_

12:15 October 30. Konoha Headquarters, Tokyo.

Like he had promised, Sasuke was waiting for her when she returned.

"Shall we go, Inoue-san?"

_Name: Inoue Miyako_

She smiled. "Un. Where's the hairdresser?"

_Age: 24_

_Occupation: Library Assistant (resigned)_

"Not far." He held out his arm and she took it as the lift doors opened. She waved good bye to Hibi and stepped in.

_Immediate Relations: None_

"What else are you doing today, Sasuke-kun?"

"After you get your hair done, we're going to the station."

_Next of Kin: Maito Gai. Relation: Legal Guardian. Occupation: Martial Arts teacher_

"But," she turned to face him, batting her eyelashes. "What are you doing _tonight_, after I leave?"

He smirked. "I have a date."

A mock gasp, and an excited squeal. This was, in fact, quite an event. She'd known that Sasuke had always preferred to lead a solitary life. But dates were rare events that she heard about from Ino – to hear it from the man himself... was just another reminder that she was leaving Tokyo. He would never have told her in advance, but just waited for her to hear it from Ino.

The doors slid open and they stepped out into another level. There were makeup rooms and hair dressers on both sides of the narrow corridor it had opened onto – it could have belonged to a movie studio.

"Do I know her?"

A significant look, and a slight hesitation. "No."

_Interests: To be created at agent's discretion._

A woman waved at her from down the hall, tapping her foot with impatience. "Miyako-san, this way please." Her name tag read, 'Aiko'. When Miyako was finally seated in the swivel chair, her hair doused in the solution and rolled up in curlers in the machine, and Sasuke settled in with a book, Aiko left them alone, her eyes passing with disapproval over the Uchiha.

"What is she like, this person?" She asked.

"Very bright. Intelligent. A bit silly."

"Is she pretty?" Miyako asked, picking up a magazine.

"I think so," Sasuke replied absent-mindedly as he turned the page. "Hey… do you remember when we first met?"

"At the… market, right?" She didn't need to say much else.

"I mean, after that. When you knew who I was."

"So … the camp."

Sasuke knew why she was hesitant – for her, Konoha's summer program held memories of long days spent with Team Gai, and then in later years, more specifically Neji after a particular _incident_.

"Don't think about him." Sasuke said, finally closing his book. "I don't want you to, not after..."

The façade dropped and she looked up at him with a sad smile. "Everyone knew about yesterday, right? I'm always the last to find out, I suppose…"

"Don't talk to me about him," he said quietly, his hand gripping his book tightly. "Everything else I can handle, but-"

"What are you talking about, Sasuke-kun?" Her voice had taken on a high, breathy tone that echoed one of a high schooler. Another avoidance, like always, she thought guiltily. Someone else's emotions were something she'd come to appreciate properly after years of being a spy (despite being surprised by Neji's, so long ago). They were malleable at times, but impenetrable as a fortress at others – she knew she'd been skirting around this kind of situation for the past year, but now that she'd actually seen Neji in the flesh... well, either way, it wasn't going to be a problem for much longer. "I think sitting here is very boring for you. Why don't you go and –"

"I'm fine, Inoue-san," Sasuke interrupted curtly.

"Sasuke-kun!" She said plaintively, as if injured. "How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Miya." She grinned, and he had to smile back as she held up two fingers, signifying victory.

15:10 October 30. Konoha Headquarters (Hair and Makeup department 2), Tokyo.

She had to admire him. As Tenten, and as Miyako. With the former, there had been boundaries on their relationship. Agents had to follow some kind of protocol when dealing with one another – one couldn't go asking personal questions in case of interrogation situations. If there was the smallest chance of a personal identification beyond the professional sphere, it spelled danger for everyone. With the latter, the only boundaries they had between them were those defined by social convention.

"Favourite movie? What have I watched recently… I liked The Sky Crawlers," Miyako said thoughtfully over her coffee. Sasuke arched an eyebrow at her.

"Really? I thought you would have liked something like Five Centimetres per Second. Or Hana and Alice."

"I liked them, too, but … The Sky Crawlers was more interesting." She paused again. "But I also liked The Longest Night in Shanghai."

"Never heard of it." He cocked his head to the side.

"It's about a famous Japanese makeup artist who goes to help out at the Shanghai Music Awards… and then he gets hit by a taxi driver while walking around at night. They end up spending the evening stuck together… thinking about their lives. I thought it was very interesting."

"A female taxi driver?"

Miyako laughed. "Yes."

"And a male make-up artist?"

A nod.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, and Miyako knew he was thinking about how sentimental girls could be. "So… what are your hobbies?"

"Ummm…" That was actually a hard question. She hadn't been on an honest date since… well, a long time. She hadn't honestly introduced herself to anyone since first entering the company, either. Even then, everyone had to keep some kind of secret to themselves."Swimming, reading, listening to music, watching movies… normal things. You?"

"I like to cook."

"What kinds of things?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Everything. When you come home, I'll cook you dinner."

A lie. Probably. If this mission was a success, and she returned… this kind of thing would never be allowed to happen. _You were with Neji for a long time, though,_ a voice in the back of her head said smugly. _Is it that you don't want to be with him?_

Miyako shook her head to clear her thoughts, and cleared her throat before answering carefully, "That sounds lovely, Sasuke-kun." A heavy moment passed, and she smiled, setting her coffee down on the table. She looked up at the clock. Within a few more minutes, Aiko would hopefully return to take her head out of the awkward contraption. "So… next question."

"Your first love."

She smiled. "Nee, Sasuke-kun! That's sly. You tell me yours first."

Sasuke smirked. "You're not getting out of that one easily."

"Let's see… there was a boy who lived at the orphanage," Miyako began. "And he was always picked on because his hair was a funny colour."

Orphans, it was statistically proven (apparently), made amazing secret agents. They had little to lose. Very little, in Tenten's case. She'd been too wrapped up in work and study to really make many friends in university. She hadn't really stood out in high school, and people hadn't paid much attention to her – she was the orphan girl everyone had picked on, anyway. She'd even once thought about the young Uchiha heir whose family had been assassinated, and wondered if he was lonely. Nothing much had changed. She had few friends and couldn't talk to anyone outside of work. In short, she was the model orphan, the complete opposite of Sasuke in many ways.

"And…?"

"That was it. I confessed to him once, on Valentines' Day. He never talked to me again." She paused, and smiled. "But that may have been because he was adopted." They broke into laughter for some inexplicable reason, and for not the first time, Miyako felt something pang painfully in her chest. She didn't like it – she knew what it was. Regret, to be leaving Tokyo now, of all times.

"That's not a good story."

She smiled and finished off the last of her coffee. "No, it isn't."

They fell silent and the tell tale click of stilettos against wooden floors heralded Aiko's return. They fell silent once more, and Aiko worked as briskly as she could, as if she couldn't wait to leave.

17:45 October 30, Tokyo Station, Marunouchi, Tokyo.

They were waiting around outside as they munched on bread – the stuff all university students were made of – from a convenience store. Miyako's hair fell in artificial ringlets, framing her face. They still smelled a bit like the treatments Aiko had put in her hair, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"I think it suits you," Sasuke said, pushing his sunglasses up for a moment as if to assess her appearance. She didn't look a bit out of place.

"I think it makes me look a bit vain," Miyako sighed, slipping her sunglasses on. They both avoided talking about anything sensitive, but then she had a striking thought. "Hey, why are you here?"

The Uchiha pulled a face. "That's a stupid question. Why is anyone here?"

Miyako refrained from rolling her eyes. The people she associated with did tend to give incredibly idiotic answers to common sense questions. "I mean," she clarified, taking another bite out of the bread roll, "isn't it protocol for you to _not_ be here to send me off?"

He shrugged. "It's just…"

Tenten cocked her head to the side and walked over towards him, her boots clacking against the pavement. "Why did you ask me this morning if I still liked apples?"

Sasuke shuffled around a bit, and finally met her eyes coolly. He was very practised at hiding his emotions, after all. "It doesn't matter anymore. Conversation filler. I get a kick out of making you squirm, remember?"

"I don't remember any Uchiha Sasuke being like that," Miyako replied, turning away and shaking her head. A tabloid magazine shouted at her from the corner of her eye, beginning with the words, 'Hyuuga Neji and-'

"Tenten?"

"Hmm?"

She turned to face Sasuke instinctively, and realised she'd been tricked as he smirked. "You're not ready."

Miyako took off her sunglasses and slipped them into her pocket so she could massage her temples. "I'm not focusing today…" she sighed. No sooner had the words left her mouth, Sasuke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms, his lips finding hers with an almost disconcerting ease. Her eyes widened with surprise before sliding shut, and she could almost imagine … Amidst kissing him back, for some unknown reason, and her hands snaking up his back to reach habitually for long tresses that weren't there, she realised that he had been watching her for the past few years, but she had always been waiting for someone else's shadow. Tenten guiltily ran her fingers through his black locks and Sasuke pulled away, leaving her speechless and her eyes shadowed and downcast.

"I'm not asking for anything," he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers. "I won't be a burden. For the past two years… no one else has expected more of myself than you. To everyone else, I'm still the traitor, but to you… I'm just like everyone else, but always in someone else's shadow. And I don't need that again. Not now, not ever." He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her and breathing in the scent of her hair. "You were right. What I want and what I've done... So, Tenten…"

Sasuke didn't need to finish the sentence, and Tenten smiled sadly, even though he couldn't see. This needed to be goodbye, for some time at least. Luckily, neither of them had a choice.

"Thank you," she whispered. She pulled away, and giggled a bit. "I don't know, maybe you can pull a Calico and redeem yourself while I'm gone."

He scoffed, dark eyes shining. "Ridiculous." He paused and took a deep breath, letting go of her hands. "You'll miss your train, Miya."

Miyako shook her head and took another step back, towards the entrance. "Yeah. Thanks for seeing me off, Sasuke-kun."

"… I'll see you around, then." Sasuke raised a hand.

"Yeah. Until next time," she waved.

"It might be… sooner than you think. Good luck."

She could only smile in response and turned around slowly before disappearing into the shadows of the train station. It wasn't until the doors were out of sight that she saw something that made her blood run cold. The different magazines and newspapers, at a news stand. All were sold out, but each cover remained in its place.

_Exclusive Photos! Hyuuga Neji and His Mysterious Lover_.

_The 'Perfect Woman' for Hyuuga Neji?_

_Weekend Gossip Special: Hyuuga Neji and his Secret Girlfriend?_

Photos taken from behind her, so her face was obscured – even hidden from the mirrors. There were a series of photos - their goodbye, in snapshots. Holding hands. A shared smile. His fingers running through her hair. A passionate kiss… and an aloof and familiar farewell. It was the final straw.

Without so much as a second glance, Miyako hurried to her platform, weaving throughout the ever-shifting crowds. There was a new feeling in her chest, bubbling up from within, until it spread to her fingertips and her scalp, and she knew it for what it was.

It was a mask, a complete transformation – a _henge_. Tenten was gone. She _had_ to vanish.

It was joy, to be leaving Tokyo.


	7. Surprise Me

**A/N: **Since I am in a most celebratory mood (and it flows better, I guess), this week is a double release! I'll see you all in three weeks! As always, I hope you enjoy.

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Six – Surprise Me _

18:23, October 30, Shiroishi Zaou Station.

The train ride to Sendai was relatively uneventful. Miyako found herself dozing lightly, and ended up dreaming, at one point, that she was still in her recruitment days, before any of this trouble had really begun.

In this dream, she was still Tenten, walking through the corridors of the training academy – where new recruits received training in combat, weapons handling, vehicle manoeuvrings and the like. Hyuuga Neji had been assigned to her unit from the start, along with Rock Lee. Their handler, Maito Gai, had an impressive track record, and she'd initially been excited to meet him. Until she met him. The man insisted on wearing a green spandex jumpsuit to all combat training sessions, and a green tracksuit on every other occasion. He went on long-winded tirades about teamwork and the best of youth… but then no one who had been in the agency long enough to become a handler to take on new recruits was ever really sane in the conventional sense.

"Hey Neji," Tenten said, "What's the record for most damages incurred by a single agent?" This scene was familiar. They were sitting in their old team meeting area, a small balcony that overlooked the grounds of their training facility.

"Did you ever hear about Calico?"

"Who?" He didn't turn to look at her this time, but that wasn't right. She just didn't want to look at him, even in her dreams.

"The agent who took out about twelve or so different crime factions from around the world at a large weapons' dealing... sometime last year, I think. They say she was in love with-"

Miyako woke suddenly as the man beside her stood up, bumping her shoulder. He turned hastily, bowing quickly in apology before hurrying off the train. Miyako sighed and shook her head to clear the memories of her former life. After all, if she could live her entire life behind so many different masks, what harm was there in having yet another?

She turned around and took in her surroundings once more – her stop was the next one along. Miyako rubbed her eyes and stretched, before settling back in her seat. Once again, she began to rummage through the bag that had been prepared for her – there was a wallet inside, with old receipts and train tickets, make-up that looked like it had been used, a few other knick knacks and a phone, with a shiny charm dangling from its corner. It was a leaf. Another interesting thing she'd been given was an apple pendant, made out of crystal. Sasuke had slipped it into her pocket at the station, and she'd been tempted to burst into tears for the sake of the act. After a moment of hesitation, she put the necklace on, tucking the long chain beneath her clothes.

Sighing, she glanced at the time. It was almost six o'clock, and she would be arriving at the station in about ten minutes. Miyako flipped her phone and dialled the number of the woman she was staying with – Ichiraku Suzune. Her cousin, Ichiraku Ayame worked for Konoha as a member of the administration team. Her father was famous for setting up a popular ramen chain, called 'Ichiraku Ramen'. Uzumaki Naruto had played a large part in getting that operation afloat.

Miyako smiled to herself at the memory, and frowned when she reached Ichiraku's voicemail… again. She left another message.

"Ichiraku-san, it's Inoue Miyako-san. I'm on the train now, and we'll be arriving in Sendai within the next ten minutes. I just wanted to let you know… and I look forward to meeting you."

She knew pretty much everything about this woman from the file Tsunade had given her – but nothing had suggested she was such a … flaky character. Absolutely no agent potential. With yet another sigh, Miyako looked out the window of the train and her mind returned to other things that had been clamouring in her head since the afternoon. There wasn't much she could do now – about either situation.

Neji would be forced to stay low after the media exposure, and the same would have been expected of her. The residents of her building, however… some were more tactful than others. Somehow, Miyako had a feeling that Sadako would be able to keep a hold on things. The woman had very mysterious ways.

As for Sasuke… things could be more complicated, she supposed. The way that he had hesitated when she queried him about his date seemed to suggest that she did in fact know the woman in question. It could be any number of people… but still, the heart of the matter lay in the fact that he had feelings for her. Feelings that he would never have confessed if she hadn't been leaving Tokyo for an indefinite amount of time. Miyako rubbed her temples and took a few more deep breaths. They had both said goodbye without regrets, and that was how she would leave it for now. It wasn't like she'd be seeing either of them any time soon.

Miyako sighed again. Ten minutes seemed to be taking an incredibly long time to pass. She had already analysed and categorised the other passengers within the first fifteen minutes of the trip, and hadn't really paid much attention to them since. She'd been tempted to try and pickpocket a few knick knacks off passengers to alleviate her boredom, like she'd used to do in European countries when she and Neji had been on stakeouts, tracking crime syndicate activities in the scorching summer heat...

She frowned. Her mind kept drifting back to him with disconcerting ease. This, Miyako thought, was the problem with letting him back into her world. It always took a long time to compartmentalise her feelings for him, building up a tentative wall around memories and emotions. As expected, he managed to leave a lasting impression that was hard to shake off. She'd be dreaming of him for the next few days, if she was lucky. He'd haunt her for months if she wasn't. Around here... it was the last thing she needed.

When at last the train pulled into Sendai station, Miyako couldn't have been more relieved. She tried Ichiraku Suzune's number again, but like the previous three times, there was no answer - she didn't bother leaving a message. Pulling her small suitcase behind her, she cast her eyes about for the woman from the file she'd been given (and thrown out) in Tokyo. Ichiraku Suzune had strawberry blonde hair, brown eyes, a few freckles across her nose and was about the same height. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found. Chewing absently on her bottom lip, Miyako wandered around the station, debating whether or not she should just catch a taxi to the cafe to see what was happening. It wasn't until she saw the familiar _noren_ that marked the entrance of an izakaya that her stomach rumbled, despite having eaten before leaving Tokyo.

Miyako stopped and squinted at the name, and smiled to herself, noting the absence of shoes outside. "Mamoru, huh?"

She walked towards the small restaurant, nestled comfortably between a quiet bookstore and a florist. The brunette took off her boots at the entrance, with a smile and nod at the chef.

"Welcome!" he said cheerfully, his back turned. "There's a lot of room tonight, so you can bring your suitcase in."

Miyako smiled and thanked him quietly as she walked in, and hung her coat up on the back of the stool before taking a seat, flicking her hair over her shoulders.

"What would you like to drink?" He finally turned around and they both stopped and blinked, before the tense moment dissolved in a well perfected, shy smile and nervous chuckle. The man was younger than she expected him to be, in his early thirties. His hair was dark and unruly, spiked in different directions as if he had just rolled out of bed. He had delicate laugh lines around his eyes, and an oddly symmetrical mouth. His nose was no longer straight, looking crooked as if it had been broken in the past. He had a piercing on the edge of his right ear, glinting behind his dark locks, a reminder of perhaps more rebellious days. "_Jizake_?"

Miyako met his eyes again. "Surprise me." She threw her handbag on the chair beside her. He turned around again and ducked out of sight for a few moments before returning with a dark green, glass bottle and two small glasses. He poured some shochu for himself and handed her the drink with a smile. "Cheers."

They raised their glasses and drank, Miyako smiling.

"How long are you in Sendai for?" he asked. "You're just passing through, right?"

She smiled and set the cup down. "No, actually. I'm here ... indefinitely."

"Really?" This piqued his interest, and she watched his eyes flicker in the dim light, skimming over her permed hair, fashionable outfit, and the patterned suitcase that matched her handbag. "What for, if you don't mind me asking?"

Miyako leaned in, prompting him to shift towards her to hear her say, "I'd tell you... but then I'd have to shoot you," she said seriously. A grin broke out across his face, and he laughed.

"You're really something! We don't live in a movie!"

Miyako couldn't help herself, and laughed with him. "I know, I'm sorry!" she said, brushing her fringe away from her eyes. "I've just always wanted to say it!" She knew he had seen the small bandages from the bullet graze she'd received yesterday, and his expression changed subtly, just like she'd anticipated. "But, honestly, I'm here to help out a friend of a friend."

He handed her a menu, and paused before beginning, hesitantly, "I... hate to pry, but who are you staying with?"

Miyako read over the selection - it was small, but a very good mix. "Oh... um, Ichiraku Suzune-san. She runs a cafe."

"... Red hair, brown eyes, tongue like a devil?" He said disbelievingly.

"You know her?" Miyako smiled when he shrugged. "I'm not sure about the last, but the rest sounds about right."

"I'll... try calling her for you. You tried the shop?"

"Un. Earlier. No one answered."

The izakaya owner ducked under the counter once again and pulled out a dusty telephone with a rotary-dial. Miyako reached for her mobile phone as he hesitated, his finger tracing the rim of the plastic disc, and he smiled at her. "It's okay. I still remember."

Miyako nodded and watched with curiosity as he dialled Ichiraku Suzune's number, waiting for the dial to roll back into its original position. It didn't take long for her to answer.

"Oi Ichiraku!" He paused. "'May I ask who's calling'? Why're you being so polite? It's Nagayama Hiroki." He drawled. "Of course it's Sugimura. Don't hang up." He paused to look at her, and Miyako supplied her name.

"Inoue."

He nodded in thanks. "Inoue-san's been calling you all afternoon, idiot, and-"

Miyako heard the other woman interrupt with a stern, "Put her on the phone, pervert."

He wordlessly handed her the phone and she smiled, bowing as she accepted the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hello Inoue-san! I'm really, very, very sorry about this mix-up! I've been having a lot of problems with my phone lately-"

There was a loud horn that sounded in the background and Ichiraku Suzune screamed a few choice profanities at the driver. There was yet another pause as she got into what Miyako assumed was a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the west entrance of Sendai station.

"I'm sorry," she repeated breathlessly. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Until then, don't talk to that pervert, Sugimura Takeshi. Watch your drink, and I'll be there soon."

"Sugimura Takeshi-san?" Miyako echoed, suddenly confused.

"Yes. Stupid black hair, dark eyes... far too many piercings on his ears... anyway. I'll see you soon." The line clicked and Miyako stared numbly at the phone.

"What... kind of person is Ichiraku-san?"

"You'll get along well enough," Takeshi replied amiably, returning to slicing the tuna. "She's not too fond of me, though."

"I see," Miyako said, hiding a smile.

He stopped as he remembered something and set the knife down. "I've forgotten my manners." With a smile, he introduced himself. "Sugimura Takeshi. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Tenten found herself smiling back. "Inoue Miyako. Pleased to meet you."

"Well, Inoue-san, have you thought of something you'd like to eat?"

"Everything looks good," Miyako admitted. "But... I'll have-"

A loud curse interrupted their conversation, and they both turned to look at the entrance, at which a young woman was in the process of removing her high heels. When she succeeded, she stomped into the tiny restaurant and downed the half-full cup of shochu on the bar before glaring at Takeshi.

"Don't you dare say anything," she whispered fiercely, and then turned to face Miyako with a smile. She bowed deeply, and apologised, her locks gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Please forgive me, Inoue-san!"

Miyako shifted in her chair. "It is nothing, really-"

"It is entirely your fault," Takeshi ginned. "You double booked, didn't you?"

"What's it to you?" Suzune shot back at him, and returned to Miyako. "I heard you were coming around a month ago, but things have been busy lately so it slipped my mind..."

A month ago? They'd planned well in advance, Miyako thought.

"It's no trouble at all – Sugimura-san here has been very helpful," she smiled, and Suzune settled on a bar stool.

"Have you eaten yet?" Miyako asked, as Takeshi resumed cooking.

"Oh, no. We were about to order, and I was half wishing that someone would call so I could escape him. He was going on and on about the Hedonistic Imperative like I was an idiot or something."

Takeshi cleared his throat. "Let the woman eat, Ichiraku. If you're so hungry yourself, why aren't you eating something?"

"More sake first, and _then_ I'll eat."

22:29 October 30, Hirose-dori Avenue, Ichiban-cho, Sendai.

A few hours later, Takeshi closed the izakaya and walked them back to Suzune's cafe. It was a few blocks away, but Takeshi had to carry the red head because Miyako had her suitcase. Needless to say, they received strange looks from passersby, and similarly drunken pedestrians pointed and laughed openly. After Suzune fell silent for a time, Miyako looked over at the pair.

"Are you two close?" She asked him. Suzune was snoring lightly on his back. Her weight dropped as she stopped supporting herself, and Takeshi grunted as he readjusted her, trying not to jolt her awake.

"What makes you ask that?"

Miyako shrugged. "You just... remind me of some people I knew."

He chuckled. "I'm her sempai, Inoue-san. Well, former sempai. Our families run in the same circles, but these days..."

"Call me Miya," she reminded him when he trailed off, not chasing the topic – she could sense it was a long story, and she couldn't extract anything from him now; social decorum demanded delicacy and politeness.

"Miya-san."

Miyako smiled. "It'll have to do, I suppose." She'd always wanted a nickname. The only people who had ever called her 'Ten-chan' were her friends at the orphanage. She'd never even told Neji about it. Takeshi stopped walking and Miyako turned around. "Is something wrong?"

"We're here," he said, looking up at the sign. "Maru."

"Oi," Suzune said, waking suddenly at the name. "Go around the back."

Takeshi complied with a sigh, stopping as she slapped him on the shoulder when the door came into view. "Oi, let me down."

"Are you going to try and hit me in the face again?"

"No, I feel sick."

He groaned and set her on the ground, and she stumbled away, pushing her small clutch into his chest. "Don't go upstairs," she warned, and disappeared into an alleyway.

The pair of them shrugged at each other and Takeshi picked up her suitcase, leading them around the other side of the block to the back entrance, Even in the dim light, he was able to open the door with ease, and they slipped inside, turning the lights on to reveal a large, neat kitchen. A little alarm device by the door was pulsing gently, and Miyako knew it was Konoha-issued; she'd seen it in a few other safe houses. This one was fairly old, from around four years ago. Before Shikamaru had become co-head of the technology department, the technicians had tended to opt for designs that favoured functionality – Shikamaru was obsessed with streamlined, unassuming devices that tended to turn into weapons that had a tendency to explode with a flick of a switch.

Miyako pressed her thumb against the screen as if to key in the code, but her fingerprints were quickly scanned and accepted and the alarm was disabled as the display dimmed. Through the large window at the front of the kitchen, she could see into the cafe. There was a raised, round platform in the middle of the room, upon which there were four tables, all mismatched, with similarly mismatched chairs. Miyako realised the rest of the cafe was filled with a variety of chairs and small tables, with a few booth seats along one side of the cafe, and smiled. It suited the owner's personality.

Miyako looked around for a bit of guidance, and Takeshi pointed to the side of the kitchen, by the fridge. "The stairs to the flat are through that door over there. She'd kill me for even taking a look, so I'd better go."

"Oh," Miyako smiled, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, for walking us home. You shouldn't have troubled yourself."

"It was nothing... At least you're home safely," he smiled back, and Miyako was suddenly aware of the fact that Suzune was throwing up in the alleyway, and had to refrain from laughing.

"Umm... well... I'll see you around then, I guess." Takeshi handed Miyako the clutch, and they drifted over to the door together, trying to think of something to say, but both failing spectacularly.

"If it's not too much of a bother –"

"Maybe next week –"

They stopped, and he motioned for her to continue at the same time she did, and they smiled again.

"Perhaps I will... see you again next week," she said. "If... you'd like."

"You're always welcome to visit," Takeshi smiled once more, and Miyako wondered how normal people handled these kinds of things. She'd never really had a normal kind of relationship with anyone."So, um... good night."

"Goodnight," Miyako waved. "Have a safe trip!"

Takeshi turned and began to walk back through the alleyway, right hand tucked in his pocket and left hand raised in farewell. His silhouette was almost familiar, a both comforting and unsettling sight that reminded her of times long gone. Footsteps brought Miyako back to the present and Suzune stumbled into the kitchen, kicking the door shut.

"I feel terrible," she groaned. "Pass me that roll of paper over there, please, Inoue-san."

Miyako obliged her, ripping off a few squares and handing it to the red head. She wiped her mouth and grimaced, and opened the fridge before pulling out two bottles of water, passing one to Miyako.

"I'm sorry about today," Suzune sighed, leaning against the counter. "Aya-chan asked me a month ago-" she stopped to take a large gulp of her water. "-but I didn't hear anything from her about the date you were coming."

"Oh, no, it's my fault. I should have called earlier," Miyako said, picking up her suitcase. "And please, call me Miya."

Suzune headed over to the door beside the fridge and Miyako inched past her into a narrow corridor that had about two square meters of available space, a quarter of which was dedicated to a shoe rack against the wall. After they took off their shoes, Suzune turned on the light to reveal the staircase, and helped Miyako carry the heavy bag up the stairs.

"How long have you been living here?" Miyako asked conversationally as they slowly headed up the stairs. Suzune was both hanging onto the suitcase and pulling herself along with the aid of a railing.

"Let's see... four years, now."

Miyako tried to recall Suzune's birth date. She was twenty eight now – she would have been twenty-four when she decided to set up her cafe. They reached the first landing and Suzune turned on the light to reveal a western-styled kitchen and living room, with a door that led to a bathroom on the other side of the room. "Umm... my uncle gave me a renovation two years ago for a birthday present," Suzune said, stretching. "So everything is really new..." She reached for the bottom of the suitcase again. "Okay, ready, set..."

They picked up the bag again and struggled up the narrow staircase once more. There wasn't really much to be said, they were both tired and lugging the suitcase up the stairs wasn't really the most riveting thing in the world. "Are you close to Ichiraku-san?" Miyako asked, and then corrected herself. "Ichiraku Ayane-san?"

"Aya-chan?" Suzune asked, with some difficulty. "Yeah, she works as a part of the admin team for your company, doesn't she? Her dad thought she'd be more than an OL but... well, Aya-chan's always just wanted a happy family and a good husband. I think she's happy where she is."

"Oh, I see..." Miyako nodded, reaching the final landing. She moved back, lowering the suitcase, and straightened her back, stretching.

"Ah, we're here," Suzune said, sighing with relief as she switched on the light. Unlike last time, this landing was closed, and contained only a hallway with two Japanese-style bedrooms on the right and another bathroom on the left hand side. "Your room is the one at the end; I'll wake up first in the mornings."

Miyako nodded again and Suzune said goodnight before ambling back down the stairs to give her privacy. Miyako picked up her suitcase once more, so not to leave marks on the tatami, and slid her door open and gingerly placed the bulky bag in the middle of the floor, carefully sliding the screen shut before unzipping the suitcase.

She hadn't had time to look inside the suitcase, but she was fairly sure it was full of clothes. Her assumption was correct – Miyako knew that Hibi would have had a lot of fun choosing her outfits for her. Her wardrobe now consisted of soft fabrics, sheer pinks and the occasional ruffle. Sighing, Miyako pushed her suitcase into the corner of the room – she could unpack it later – and pulled her futon and other bedclothes out of the wardrobe, and simply collapsed onto it, staring up at the naked light bulb.

It was reassuring to be silent, she supposed. However, left alone with her thoughts, Tenten knew there was a danger of slipping. Like Sasuke had warned her, she would slip up if she stopped paying attention... but she was just too tired to care. She was tired from yesterday's mission, tired from yesterday with Neji, tired from this morning with Sasuke, tired from the trip in the afternoon... and just sick of being a spy.

Way to go, Tenten thought. You're in a Konoha safe-house with a civilian who's a mess, at best. You finally realised you're sick of the secrecy, but you're stuck with a different personality for the next six months at least... what will you do about it?

Tenten rolled over, sighing loudly. Something told her that she was in the perfect place. Well, Tsunade and Shizune had planned out this mission; of course they would have put her where they thought she needed to be. She had a good feeling about Takeshi, for some reason. The way he had mentioned his and Suzune's families seemed to suggest …. exclusivity. As with everything else, your relationships were important. If she made the right connections now, she would be able to slink in and out of the city's inner workings...

She ran a hand through her hair and yawned. There was no point in trying to think about this now. She'd have to wait until she was fully settled in. Whoever was hiding Lucia would be on guard now. News of what had happened in Tokyo would have already reached them; they'd be on the lookout for happenings in other bases. Konoha would be leading a decoy operation; they would have hit Osaka two hours ago in order to eliminate suspicion that an infiltration operation was under way in Sendai.

"A month," she whispered to herself. "I'll wait a month."

After all, putting a foot wrong now would seal her death.


	8. What's Happened in the Past

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Seven – What's Happened in the Past_

10:19, November 27. Maru Cafe, Sendai.

Miyako soon found that life with Suzune was far from routine. The only constant in the first few weeks was that she woke up at six thirty to open the cafe at seven, and went to bed at ten at night after cafe training with Suzune, often completely exhausted. She hadn't even the energy to write in her journal... not that it would have mattered.

"You've got a knack for making coffee," Suzune said, watching her. "Doesn't she, Yuichi-kun?"

The chef stuck his head out of the kitchen, leaning on the window sill and Miyako smiled, colouring obligingly.

"I'm good at following your instructions," Miyako replied, tapping the bottom of the milk jug on the counter before swirling the frothed milk, admiring its silky sheen. The customer, a university student holding onto a heavy stack of books and a laptop with one arm, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her hair was unkempt and her fringe in disarray. Miyako placed the plastic lid on the cup and smiled as she handed it to her.

"Studying?"

"Yeah. The library is too noisy-"

"- and it's too distracting to study at home," Miyako finished for her with a chuckle. "I know the story."

"Don't let them pick on you," the girl said, smiling at Suzune. "Suzu-san can be very persistent."

"That's mean! Why would you even say such a thing?" Suzune asked as if injured. "Miya-chan's just too cute; we can't help but tease her!"

"Suzu," Yuichi interjected, "You're an idiot. I'll see you later, Neko-chan."

Neko, still smiling, waved and left the shop.

"You have a lot of regulars," Miyako remarked. They tended to be good sources of gossip.

"Yeah," Suzune said dreamily. "That was how Yuichi-kun and Neko-chan met. I think we had run out of milk and he had to take her order... she couldn't understand a word he was saying at the time, though. She's an exchange student. Her real name is... something else. It's hard to say, so she just tells everyone to call her 'Neko'. She's his girlfriend, too."

Miyako turned to Yuichi for confirmation, but he'd already disappeared to the far side of the kitchen, out of reach. It appeared he didn't want to be quizzed on his relationship.

"Oh really? I didn't..."

"They don't act like a couple, do they? They're sweet like that." Suzune smiled. "I think he wants your attention," she added, looking at a table on Miyako's side of the room, where a young man was sitting alone at a table by the window. He was wearing a casual shirt, jeans, and red sneakers, but something seemed... different about him. Miyako walked over, preparing her notepad and pen.

"Welcome to Maru," she smiled. "What can I get for you today?"

The young man looked up, and his eyes did a quick sweep of her messy bun, floral-print dress and chocolate coloured leather boots. Miyako tried to avoid eye contact, but he successfully held her gaze and she shifted uncomfortably. Normally, if someone was trying to size her up, she'd be doing the same thing. With a gun in her hand.

"The dessert special," he said, slowly. Something was changing in his eyes, but she couldn't quite make it out. Miyako regained her composure and wrote his order down on her notepad.

"And any drinks?"

"A long black," he said, with a disarming smile.

"Okay, so the raspberry cheesecake and a long black. Won't be long," Miyako managed to smile as she returned to the counter, placing the order pad on the table and preparing the grinder. She tore the order off the pad and placed it on the carousel. Yuichi glanced at the order and quickly cut a slice of the cake, placing it on a plate before dusting it with chocolate and placing a daub of whipped cream beside it.

"What's wrong?" Suzune asked, watching her with amusement.

"He kind of... scares me."

"Miya-chan, scared?" Yuichi echoed, sliding the plate over. "That's not very convincing."

Suzune looked over. The man was reading a magazine that had been left at the table and was laughing to himself. She shrugged.

"Looks normal to me."

"He's just... unsettling, is all," Miyako grumbled, and turned on the espresso machine. The coffee escaped in a smooth stream, quickly changing the colour of the water to a rich, dark brown. "Have you seen him before?"

"... Not that I know of. Not recently, at least," Suzune said, picking up the order pad. "Good luck," she smiled, and wandered off onto the other side of the cafe. Miyako sighed and slid the dessert onto a tray along with a fork, and set the cup of coffee next to it, atop a napkin. Steeling herself with a smile, she emerged from behind the counter with her tray and over to the table where the young man was waiting.

He looked up at her approach, and she set the tray down, placing his order in front of him. "Here you go," she smiled. "Raspberry cheesecake and a long black."

He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, 'do you know who I am?', and she simply gave him a blank look.

"You're new here," he said, with yet another disarming smile. "I'm Saito Kazuma."

It's a pleasure to meet you," Miyako said, uncertain of how to respond. It was like her mind was working in stops and starts... like his manner. "I'm... Inoue Miyako."

"Where are you from?"

"Please, enjoy," she said, ignoring his question and placing the tray flat against her stomach as if to protect herself. Kazuma glanced at his watch and sighed, taking a bill from his wallet and leaving it flat against the table. After a moment, he decided to pin it under a business card and took a sip of his coffee and a generous helping of the cheesecake. "It seems, Inoue-san, that we're out of time. I will return tomorrow."

He closed the magazine and Tenten froze, even as he stood and walked away with a small smirk. Suzune had a love of trashy tabloid magazines – Tenten had always avoided them, simply because they were a waste of time and energy. However, this one made her chest feel a bit numb, and her mouth dried as she read the headlines. '_Hyuuga Neji's scandal! An exclusive with Tanaka Tsukimiya!' _

"Kiss and tell, huh?" Suzune said, looking over Miyako's shoulder. "Some girls never learn." The image of the brunette smiled sultrily up at them, and Tenten resisted the urge to claw the cover off. Careful to keep her temper in check, she turned around and picked up plates and cups from a recently vacated table on her way back to the counter, leaving Suzune with the bill and the business card.

An excited squeal brought Miyako's mind back to the cafe. She turned to look at the red-head, who was practically jumping. Suzune all but danced back to the counter, handing the note to Miyako, but clutching the card to her chest.

"No wonder he looked so familiar; it was Kazuma-kun! It's been such a long time, I wonder why he didn't come and say hello..."

"He wasted the cake and coffee, _and _tipped us for it," Miyako scoffed. "He must come from money."

"Of course," Suzune said, "He's a Saito."

Miyako laughed. "That doesn't mean much!"

"I mean," Suzune said exasperatedly, "he's from one of the eight richest families in Sendai."

The brunette arched an eyebrow. This was definitely something new. No one really paid attention to anyone in Tokyo, unless you had a lot of influence. Having a lot of money was one thing, but power, on the other hand...

"There's the Hyuuga family, and the Saito – they're jewellery makers. Sugimura's family have their own school. Nagayama Hiroki is the sole member of an old, old family, and his girlfriend Watanabe Michiru is an actress. She's not exactly rich because of her family, per se, but she's definitely in the public spotlight now."

Yuichi stuck his head out of the kitchen to contribute to the list. "You're forgetting the Yori, Isaka and Ookuchi families."

"I was getting to them!" She snapped. "Yori Daichi is the nephew of Yori Tsubaki – the CEO of Yori Industries. Isaka Fumiko's family has set up some kind of medical research facility and Ookuchi Shinji is from a family of workaholics and his grandfather set up a few hotel chains in his day, so they're all just rolling in it."

"Well, I kind of think... it's a bit sad," Miyako said. "It feels like they put on a show for everyone else and they're famous because of their parents... and now they're all conveniently friends so the media circus is happy. It's completely-"

Suzune walked away without a word to deal with a customer, and Miyako turned to Yuichi. "Did I say something wrong?"

Yuichi sighed. "She only told you seven of the families." He scratched the side of his head. "I don't know if I should tell you... but the Ichiraku family have a pretty big name around here. Suzu used to be friends with some of them when they were kids."

18:07, November 27. Maru Cafe, Sendai.

Later that night, as she was tidying the cafe, Miyako began to realise that the magazines were all centred on those names – Nagayama and Watanabe were the ultimate power couple in this city; everyone wanted to know what they were up to and who they were friends with. Of course, it didn't seem like a coincidence that their friends were all from one of those eight families. The only missing pieces were the Hyuuga, an Ichiraku and-

"Hey."

Miyako almost dropped the magazines, and the person who had interrupted her chuckled. "You're really absent-minded," Takeshi said, taking the heavy stack from her and placing it on a low coffee table. In her mind, Miyako could hear two voices in her mind say, "You let your guard down."

She shook her head. "I'm just a bit tired, is all."

"Well, it's time for you to be fed." Takeshi straightened and waved at Yuichi. "Oi, Yuichi. How are you?"

The chef grinned and waved back. "Get out of here before Suzu sees you; she'll rip your head off for taking Miya-chan on a date."

Suzune stood up from behind the counter, having finally found the pen she had dropped that morning, and Yuichi hastily turned away, retreating to the furthest corner of the kitchen. Suzune sighed and walked over to the pair.

"Just go," she said, holding out her hand for Miyako's apron. "You've done well today, and it's quiet tonight. Yuichi said Neko-chan's coming by, so I think I'll close early. Use the back door when you come back in, okay?" Miyako took her apron off and handed it to the older woman, and bowed. Suzune smacked her on the top of her head. "I'll have none of that here." She proceeded to punch Takeshi playfully in the stomach, and he keeled over, winded. "And _you_," she growled at him, "don't you dare take advantage of her."

"Oi, Ichiraku – Why d'you always say that kind of stuff? It's not tr- ow!"

Miyako laughed as they headed towards the front door, and she picked up her coat along the way. It wasn't a date, she reminded herself. If it was, she'd be all nervous and jittery. This was just spending some time with a friend.

A friend who liked to ride a motorbike, and cook her dinner.

"Do you mind?" Takeshi asked, holding out a motorbike helmet when they were finally out of the cafe. "The trip is short, and I drove it here, anyway..."

"I don't mind," Miyako said. She had certainly noticed something since the first time... _he _had taken her for a ride on his motorbike. Whenever she heard the roar of a bike engine, she was always tempted to look. There were so many motorbikes everywhere, but it never changed the fact that she'd always have to look over her shoulder, just in case.

18:43, November 27. _Mamoru_ Izakaya, Sendai Station.

When the pair arrived safely at the station, they wandered about before returning to Mamoru. Miyako bought another local magazine along the way to keep her occupied, and Takeshi scoffed at the figure on the cover.

"That guy..." he began slowly, as he opened the sliding door, "Suzu's obsessed with him." He let her into the small izakaya before sliding the roller door shut behind them, covering the lights from outside.

She studied Nagayama Hiroki's face in the dim izakaya. He had blonde hair, a narrow nose that seemed a little out of place from being broken, and a full, smiling mouth. However, the most striking thing about him was his eyes – they seemed to pierce the lens of the camera, and there was, of course, no denying that he was incredibly attractive.

"Hn," Miyako said, with a small smile. "I can see why." She took off her shoes and moved towards a bar stool, and Takeshi shook his head.

"Just don't call him, 'Nagayama Hiroki-sama'," he grunted, returning to his place behind the counter. "What do you feel like tonight, Miya-chan?"

Miyako smiled. "Surprise me."

"You're indecisive," he remarked, pausing as he rummaged through cutlery to arch an eyebrow at her.

She shook her head. "No, I just think I'd find out more about you if I left the decision to you. How much you think you know about me, and what kinds of things you like to make."

"If you had to make a decision..."

"I just feel like omelette rice today."

Takeshi laughed. "That's … I haven't made that in a long time."

"So, since I told you what I wanted to eat, what do you want to cook?" Miyako asked, beginning to flip through the magazine. She couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her chest, though. The picture in the cafe -

"Are you okay?"

Miyako dropped her hand – she hadn't realised she'd been gripping the apple pendant Sasuke had given her.

"Yeah... it's just..."

He didn't press for answers, but Miyako decided it was time for a few things to be let out in the open. "Is it okay... for me to talk about myself, at a time like this?" Takeshi didn't reply, and Miyako chuckled. "I guess... it's... I... left someone in Yamanashi," she said finally, closing the magazine. "Someone who was... close to me. It was the best decision and I'd been thinking about it for months, but... I didn't get the chance to. I wasn't strong enough."

"Miyako."

She looked up, and saw only understanding in his eyes. Not pity – and she knew she'd made the right decision in choosing him.

"It's fine. You don't need to tell me. What's happened in the past... stays there." This man didn't belong in spy games, she knew. Everyone in their world held grudges. Just saying that you were even never guaranteed anything. She didn't really have a right bringing him into it, she thought guiltily. However, for the sake of mission, she would do anything.

"Do you really think so?" Miyako asked, leaning against the palm of her hand. "Su... Suzune-san doesn't seem to agree."

Takeshi sighed as he broke an egg into a bowl and whisked it briskly. "No, Suzu... Ichiraku is... she doesn't like to let go of the past."

"What happened...Takeshi-san?" Miyako ran her fingertips over the glossy, black and white cover. "If you don't mind me asking."

He shot her a strange look. "You don't need to bother with that. You're being too polite."

Miyako laughed. "I think that's how things normally work, Takeshi-san."

"Not with me. It's always been like that with my family – with Suzu's family, too – but not with me," Takeshi said, turning on the gas stove. "If I can call you Miya, you can call me Takeshi."

She smiled. "That's fair."

"Anyway, my great grandfather set up a private school in the city," Takeshi began, tossing the garlic about in the pan. "It was very prestigious, and still is. Suzu's family sent her there, and as a Sugimura, I went to the school too. I was three years her senior, so I didn't know her for long... but I fell in with a bad group, you could say." He added the rice to the pan without pause and Miyako watched as he slowly withdrew. "We... at the time, I knew how she felt about me, even three years later when it was her turn to graduate. I was young and foolish, but even so... well, after that, she never spoke to me again. She disappeared, in fact. Left to study overseas, and came back six years ago, set up shop soon after and things haven't really changed since."

"I see," Miyako said. "So you were lovers?"

The line rang with innocence that she knew she didn't really have. It was pure manipulation, but Miyako knew she had no choice. She didn't want to bring him too deep into her investigation, but something told her that Takeshi would be a far more informative contact than Suzune, and somewhat more free with his information, simply because she was a woman. In any case, the pair had been, after all, born into privilege. Crime syndicates died without lifeblood, thriving on fear, power and, most of all, money.

"Not quite," Takeshi said, pouring the egg into a smaller pan. "In any case, for me, that belongs in the past."

"So what about your present?"

Takeshi pulled a bottle of tomato sauce out of the fridge and turned to look at her. "Do you mean... are you asking me if I have a girlfriend?"

"If that's what you think..." Miyako took the bottle of sauce from him as he slid the plate over, and began to drizzle the sauce on top. Takeshi shook his head and began to prepare his own omelette. "Don't wait for me," he said quietly, watching as she finished with the sauce and wiped the nozzle with a tissue. "I'll only be a minute."

"_Itadakimasu_," she chimed with a smile, and took a generous spoonful of her omelette.

"The answer is no, by the way," Takeshi mumbled, over the sizzle of the pan. "I haven't had anything serious in..." he exhaled loudly. "Who knows how long?"

Miyako stopped for a moment to think. If Suzune was twenty-eight now, Takeshi would be thirty-one. Seven years...

"Hmm?"

She almost dropped her spoon and looked up, blushing. She'd once again let something slip, and it hadn't been intentional. Her game was up for tonight, at least. "It's nothing."

He merely nodded in response, a small smile on his face. Miyako glanced him again, looking away quickly. A relationship wasn't exactly what she needed. Actually, it was the last thing she needed. However, as much as she tried to deny it, she was here to work out who was hiding Lucia in Sendai. In order to do that, she had to use everyone around her to get her information – by any means possible. If manipulating Takeshi was going to get her to the bottom of this mystery sooner, she'd do it. Ruthlessness ran in her veins, and her heart was heavy for it... but it could no longer be helped. She had no choice.

Takeshi finally took a seat beside her, his omelette ready and covered quite liberally in tomato sauce. "How was your day?" he asked, placing a glass of beer in front of her. She'd fallen silent for the past few minutes, taking slow mouthfuls of her meal.

"Ah. Oh, thank you." Miyako took a sip of her drink. "It was the same as always, I guess. This strange person came into the cafe – Suzu said she knew him from school."

"Oh? Who was it?"

"Someone … with a really common last name. She tried to explain who he was, but I can't remember..."

"Saito Kazuma," Takeshi said, chuckling. "He seems really aloof, doesn't he? A cool kind of character?"

"Yeah, I guess so..."

He laughed. "He'll drop the act soon, you'll see. Serial womaniser."

Miyako knew the type. Men who lived for the thrill of the chase – as soon as a challenge was presented, the gloves came off. And then the desperation followed. As soon as any interest was shown, the prey was abandoned, the heady rush of the hunt dissipated.

"Well, it's Friday night – what are you going to do tonight?"

Miyako smiled. "I'm not sure... since Suzu's given me the night off, I might just go to sleep early."

"You're really something, Miya-chan," Takeshi sighed, shaking his head. "You're a young person. You should be out somewhere, drinking yourself stupid with your boyfriend or something..."

Miyako turned to look at him. "Well, I could be doing that now."

Takeshi smiled to himself and shook his head again, taking another spoonful of omelette, and Miyako knew she had him hooked.


	9. Just A Man

**A/N: **So it's that particular weekend of the month where I decide to put up another chapter to humour you all (and myself, I guess). So, for your dubious reading pleasure, I present the next chapter of _Syndicate,_ and recommend that you all enlighten yourself with a good dose of SCANDAL's girl rock tunes – it's pretty good for jumping on the bed and stuff.

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Eight – Just a Man_

23:07, November 27. Maru Cafe, Sendai.

Miyako finally flopped down onto her futon, magazine propped up against her pillow. Takeshi had walked her back to the cafe, simply waving in farewell. Suzune was already in bed and Yuichi and Neko had left a long time ago.

The entire building was silent – the way Miyako liked it – and she finally began to read the article.

_Nagayama Hiroki – heir, visionary, hero? No, writes __**Tanaka Chie**__, he's just a man_**.**

I'm not quite sure what to expect, upon meeting Nagayama Hiroki. He's been in the media for a long time; I'm sure Sendai has watched him grow up. Life hasn't been easy for him, obviously, so I'm very surprised when he turns up in the hotel lobby wearing jeans, a long sleeved shirt and a trendy scarf (a gift from a friend, he explains, when I remark on it). He looks awake, contrary to the tired look of his outfit, his eyes are bright and he's quick to smile.

This doesn't sound like the Nagayama Hiroki that shocked the world a few short years ago. The summer after his graduation from high school, a trip around the world with some close friends had ended in tragedy. Recognised as the heir to Nagayama Corporation, Hiroki was captured and held hostage with his five friends. Only two of them survived the ordeal. Hiroki is unashamed of the incident.

"It was the darkest chapter of my life," he says over breakfast. He's chosen a little Western-style cafe opposite the hotel. He's a regular; the staff are friendly and they smile as he orders, 'the usual' (Eggs Benedict). "Both during, and after."

His meal arrives promptly as he tries to find the words to explain, but it becomes clear he's not going to play with words this time. He's told that particular tale too many times to count.

"I was... so angry." Hiroki sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't understand what had happened, but I knew that my friends had been killed because of me. The other survivor...I don't see him anymore. He didn't want to talk about it, and he's... fallen, sadly. I see him occasionally, but it's clear he thinks he doesn't need help."

In the years after the incident, there was no denying the facts. Hiroki was surrounded by many controversies – violence, alcohol abuse, drugs – for a long time, but that all changed three years ago, shortly after Hiroki turned twenty-five.

"I found … a ray of light," Hiroki says, shifting and grinning. "It sounds kind of silly, but suddenly, everything changed and I was happy with my life and everything that fate had given me."

This man has finally found something to hold on to; friends who are as dear to him as family, and a very special person. Like every other question, he replies unabashedly. Something changes in his eyes, and he sits a bit straighter.

"Watanabe Michiru-san is... she's a wonderful person. I'm very glad I met her; she's so beautiful on the inside, she's intelligent and so talented. I like how she knows where she wants to be and she's fearless."

Many critics of Nagayama Hiroki feel he is unable to run a corporation in light of the years after the tragic event. He's too impulsive, but his track record proves that he does have many issues with following the rules. However, he is aware of this, and is working hard to change these opinions, in his typical, straightforward manner.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he says, leaning back in the chair and turning his attention to the sky. "We learn from them – that's why they're called mistakes. I can't say I'm a saint but I'm always learning things about myself and how the world works, and how my family's company will be influenced by these things. But I know I'm in good hands for now, and hope that I will be able to do as good a job when I'm ready to take the sit in the front seat by myself."

So, what's next for our favourite Nagayama? He can say he's done a lot of things to be proud of – he's set up his own charity and is a prominent figure in the social welfare arena whilst learning the ropes of running a multi-billion dollar company.

"Today? Well, who knows? I can say something cool like, 'I want to go to the beach because of this gloomy weather', but... honestly? I think that I just want to watch a movie at home. I've recently discovered I have an amazing secret talent – making microwave popcorn."

He's taking the world by storm, one movie at a time. **[e]**

07:45, November 28. Maru Cafe, Sendai.

Miyako jerked awake, grunting as she peeled her cheek off the glossy magazine – she'd fallen asleep reading it the night before. She rolled over in her futon, groaning as her joints clicked, and rubbed her sore eyes.

"I can't believe it," she sighed quietly to herself. "You've gone soft, look at you."

Miyako froze as the door to her room opened.

"Morning," Suzune smiled, waving a mug of coffee at her. "How are you?"

"Good," Miyako smiled, accepting the offered cup. "And yourself?"

"Tired," she replied. "How was dinner?"

Miyako stood and stretched, handing the mug back to Suzune before folding away her blankets and futon. "Good. Did I wake you?"

"No, not at all."

Miyako picked up her magazine, trying to battle the oncoming awkwardness. "I bought this last night, by the way." Suzune passed her the cup of coffee and they quickly exchanged items as they headed out of Miyako's room, to the living room downstairs. Suzune sighed as she flipped open to the feature article, and quickly began to skim through it, smiling to herself.

Miyako finished her coffee and flushed out the mug with warm water, leaving it in the sink. "The name sounded a bit familiar, but I couldn't place it until I read the article."

"Mmm... He hasn't changed a bit, you know. He's still the same guy he was in high school. He's... so optimistic, it's good to see he's doing so well."

The brunette stopped and stared at her. This was a first. Previously, Nagayama Hiroki-sama had remained just that – an idolised figure in the world of tabloids.

"You went to high school with him?" Miyako asked, slowly pulling down the toaster lever. She'd connected the dots yesterday, but hearing it from her was still...

Suzune smiled. "Yeah. We didn't really run in the same circles, but he was a good guy. I've met him a few times, but..."

"I see," Miyako said, nodding. "That kind of distant figure... you can admire from afar."

Suzune chuckled. "Yeah." She placed the magazine on the coffee table and straightened her apron. "The breakfast rush is about to start again, do you think you could..."

"Of course, I'll be down in ten minutes, I just need to have a quick shower." Miyako quickly buttered her piece of toast and left the small kitchen, heading towards the bathroom.

"Thanks," Suzune nodded, drifting over to the stairs. "I... I'll see you in a bit, then."

09:55, November 28. Maru Cafe, Sendai.

Miyako was wiping down the tables, bidding farewell to a young mother when Saito Kazuma walked in, heading straight for the same table he had been sitting at yesterday. It was, once again, empty, and Miyako refrained from sighing, heading back to the counter to put her cloth away, along with some used dishes.

She headed over to the table as he waved at her, retrieving her pen and an ordering pad from a pocket in her apron. "Welcome to Maru! What can I get for you today, sir?" She asked in a voice far too bright for the weather.

"A long black, and the special, please, Inoue-san."

Miyako refrained from wincing. "Right away, sir." As she turned, Kazuma said something to catch her attention.

"So, this is Ichiraku-sempai's cafe, huh? It's kind of chic."

She resisted the urge to turn around. She wouldn't grant him to satisfaction of a conversation, not today. Reaching the counter, she taped the order to the little carousel Yuichi had set up and nodded at Suzune.

"Your _kouhai_'s here. Saito Kazuma. He apparently thinks Maru is quite _chic,_" Miyako rolled her eyes as she pressed the ground beans into the filter basket with the tamper. "Would you like a trip down memory lane, Suzu?"

Suzune laughed. "I'm not sure what your problem with him is, but sure."

Yuichi rang the bell to signal orders were ready, and Miyako quickly took stock of the order before taking it to the designated table, leaving Suzune to handle Kazuma. The brunette retreated quickly to the relative safety of their counter, and Yuichi leaned casually against the windowsill, watching as Suzune laughed with Kazuma over an old in-joke.

"You're not scared of him," Yuichi said, drumming his fingers against the wood. "Who does he remind you of?"

"No one. I just don't trust him."

"Trust? No one said anything about trust here, Miya-chan." Yuichi patted her on the shoulder. "All you do is pass along the coffee and cake and if he wants to talk about his day, you listen, smile, and walk away."

"This isn't a maid cafe," Miyako grumbled. "The problem is he wants to know about _me_. I heard about him from Takeshi-san, anyway."

Yuichi chuckled. "The man works fast, huh?" His eyes flicked over to the table to see if Suzune was going to head over. "How was your date?"

"It wasn't a date!" Miyako protested, turning around to give him an indignant look. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

The chef laughed. "Because, Miya-chan, he's heading over here, with a wide grin on his face. If something didn't happen between you two, I'm going to hang up this apron and never come back."

"Define, 'something'," Miyako said, resisting the urge to turn around and look to see if he was telling the truth.

"Oh great, Sugimura's here again," Suzune sighed as she returned to the counter. Miyako turned to see that they had, in fact, been telling the truth, and smiled as he walked over.

"Good morning," Miyako waved a hand in greeting, and he nodded, leaning against the table top. "What would you like?"

"A moment of your time, actually," he replied. He cast a look over his shoulder to see Kazuma sitting in the corner and winced."He hasn't flipped the switch, yet, has he?"

"Hmm?" Miyako said absently, preparing a tray. She passed it along to Suzune, who was happy to escape his presence. "No, this is only the second time he's been here... He doesn't seem any different."

"Yo, Sugimura."

"Hey, Yuichi." Takeshi raised a hand in salute.

"What are you up to?" Yuichi grinned, pausing as he slid a plate of pasta across the counter. Miyako reached over to place it on yet another tray, along with cutlery. Suzune returned, swapping the empty plates for new ones before disappearing without a word. Miyako stacked the dishes in a rack and wiped the tray down.

"No good, I'd imagine," Neko chimed in, appearing from behind Takeshi. "Good morning, everyone." She was not burdened by books today, and her hair was a bit tidier than it had been for the past few weeks. The circles under her eyes had faded, and her clothes were free of wrinkles.

"Morning," Miyako smiled with a small wave. She turned on the grinder once more. "Skim cappuccino, with one sugar?"

"Yes please," the girl replied. She moved forward to stand next to the izakaya chef and studied his face for a moment. "You must be... Sugimura Takeshi-san."

"I have a reputation?" Takeshi asked, amused, casting a wink at Miyako. She almost laughed.

"A terrible one, if Suzu is to be believed." Neko held out her hand with a wide smile. "Please call me Neko."

"She's Yuichi-kun's-" Miyako was about to inform him, as he shook Neko's hand.

"Why are you here again?" Suzune asked, returning to the counter and cutting all conversation short. "I thought you would have left already."

"I actually came to-"

"Skim cappuccino, one sugar. Thanks, Neko-san." Miyako handed her the cardboard cup and Suzune took the coins, tossing them into the cash register. "Have a good break."

"Thanks," Neko smiled, waving. "Yuichi-kun... I'll see you later, okay?"

The chef waved before, like always, disappearing into the further recesses of the kitchen. Neko and Yuichi's departures left the trio oddly silent, and they shuffled for a moment, looking around the cafe, but avoiding a particular corner of the room.

"I have a date next week," Suzune announced suddenly. "Friday night."

Miyako refrained from sighing and poured a jug of milk before beginning to prepare the machine for a second drink. She smiled, instead, and asked, "Ooh! How exciting! Who is it?"

"An old friend."

Takeshi's eyebrows shot up. "Don't tell me you'd use Saito to get close to Nagayama."

Suzune didn't reply, and simply walked away. Miyako shook her head at him, and poured the frothed milk into a mug. "That was cruel," she said, picking up the mug of hot chocolate. "I was going to give this to you, but you clearly don't deserve it."

"I'll pay for it."

"No," Miyako said primly. "I expected more from the person who -" She turned away, feeling strangely guilty as she took a sip.

"Have dinner with me." Takeshi said suddenly.

Miyako turned around, an eyebrow arched sceptically. "Hmm?"

"Have dinner with me next week."

"What day?"

"Friday."

She laughed, finally conceding as she placed the mug in front of him. "No, that's not a date. We always hang out on Fridays. It's sad, but it's our weekly ritual now."

"At my apartment, not at Mamoru." Takeshi clarified, picking up the mug and taking a sip. "This is good."

Miyako paused for a moment, biting on her lower lip for a moment before leaning on the counter. "Can I cook?" She asked, tucking a stray lock of curled hair behind her ear. "I can make more than coffee."

"What do you want to make?" Takeshi asked, leaning against the counter to mirror her position. He was very close, now, and she smiled at him.

"I haven't thought of it yet. Maybe omelette rice," she laughed.

"You are more than welcome, if that's what you'd like."

"Oi, freeloader, get off the counter," Suzune snapped, and the pair hastily straightened, Miyako turning around to fiddle with something on the opposite bench. Takeshi was unfazed.

"Friday night, then. I'll come by at six."

Miyako turned to wave, and he simply nodded, as per usual, before leaving, hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face. As soon as he left, she took off her apron, seeing Kazuma stand from the corner of her eye. "I'm taking a five minute break, Suzu," she said hastily, escaping into the kitchen. Yuichi waved as she walked past, and Miyako smiled back before heading to the side door so she could go upstairs.

Tugging off her boots, she all but ran up the stairs two at a time before she reached the bathroom on the first floor. Miyako locked the door behind her and sank onto the bathmat, rubbing her temples. This was what Miyako had reduced her to. Hiding in a bathroom from a strange man who wanted to know more about her, and participating in pathetic dating games.

She rest her chin on her knees. "Pathetic," Tenten whispered to herself. "So ridiculously pathetic, all of you!" All of them, playing games to try and get what they wanted. This was what she had been missing out on, in her sterile life as Tenten. But that had been comfortable, a stable routine, even with _him_ around. This world... was hectic. Coloured by too many emotions. But one thing remained the same – no matter who she was – everyone around her was just trying to get what they wanted... herself included.

To his credit, Takeshi may have developed feelings for Miyako, Tenten knew. She'd played all of her cards right, said all the right things, revealed glimpses of a non-existent past at all the right moments... and now she knew that he had some connections, even if he was unwilling to admit it. All she had to do now was wait and hope for some kind of opportunity, or maybe a miracle was a better way of putting it. Perhaps she could ask for one for Christmas next month.

Still, a small voice in the back of her mind asked her why she wasn't exploiting the opportunity that Saito was providing her with. He could be easily manipulated, but she knew that he was only interested in her for one thing.

"Okay," Tenten scrambled to her feet and wiped off the back of her skirt. "You've jumped out of a helicopter wearing heeled boots. Held your own against a warehouse full of armed men with only one backup magazine. Made top recruits with higher scores than your own back down. You can handle a rich creep. You've killed a few, even." She stared at her reflection in the mirror and pinched her cheeks. "That's not really comforting," Miyako sighed, and left the bathroom.

When she returned to the cafe, Kazuma was still hanging around, just as expected. Suzune patted her on the shoulder as she approached. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Miyako nodded. "I'm fine."

It wasn't the truth.

Kazuma waited patiently for the brunette to return to the cash register, and Suzune drifted off to talk to a young mother with a rather turbulent child. "So that's-"

"I already paid," Kazuma interrupted her pleasantly, as she stopped searching for the receipt. She would have liked to puncture the piece of paper on the spike, it would have at least have provided her with a more pleasant visual image in her mind.

"I see. Is there anything else you would like... sir?"

"Your number."

He didn't waste time, did he? "Umm... it's on the door," Miyako said, gesturing, hoping he'd take the thinly veiled attempt to make him leave.

"I get the feeling you don't really answer the phone very much," he replied evenly. He ruffled his blonde hair and glanced at his watch. "I have four minutes. Let's just say, hypothetically, Miyako-san – can I call you Miyako-san? – that I wanted to take you out on a date."

"Hypothetically..." Miyako replied slowly, as if contemplating the scenario, "I'm afraid I would have to say no. To both of those things."

"No for the next week? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Let's try a hypothetical forever, for now," Miyako replied, smiling sweetly. "Have a good day, the door is to your right."

"Your every wish, Miyako-san, is my command," Kazuma said breezily, ignoring most of her responses. With his pride apparently intact, Kazuma simply bowed with a comical flourish before turning away and walking out of the cafe. Suzune returned conveniently to Miyako's side within an instant. "So how did that happen so quickly?"

"I said I'd never go out with him."

"Hmm. Interesting approach," Suzune smiled.

"And what can you tell me about your date next week?" Miyako asked, turning to the red head. "If you haven't guessed, I'm looking for gossip here."

"An old friend's in town. I met him when I went on my round-the-world trip."

This was interesting. "You travelled?"

"Yeah, for a year or so, after I finished university in America."

Miyako nodded, stroking her chin. "Where did you go?"

Suzune shrugged. "Here and there."

"And this 'friend' of yours...?"

"We met in Norway. It was a very, _very_ long summer," Suzune added, with a dreamy smile. Miyako nudged her playfully.

"Oi, Yuichi-san! Suzu's drooling," she teased. Secretly, she knew exactly what the older woman was talking about.

18:27, December 4. Takeshi's apartment – New City Residency Ichiban Machi, Aoba District, Sendai.

After picking up a few groceries from a convenience store, Miyako and Takeshi arrived in one piece at his apartment – a one bedroom affair with a balcony attached to the dining and living area at the other end of the apartment. Miyako walked around wondrously examining everything she saw. Everything was neat and orderly, much like she'd expected, but the apartment gave off a comfortable feel.

"This is bigger than my place in Yamanashi! It must be expensive," she said. "What's near the front door there?"

"Bedroom. Bathroom's in the middle, and this is my tiny kitchen," Takeshi explained, putting the shopping bags on the dining table. They had decided on sukiyaki in the end, simply because the weather was blisteringly cold.

After dinner, the pair had ended up sitting on the couch, drinking red wine. A gift, Takeshi had explained, from Suzune after her extended overseas trip. Soon enough, feeling drowsy and slightly inebriated, they found themselves lying side by side, Takeshi's chest against Miyako's back as they spoke in hushed voices. Miyako wasn't quite sure why everything felt so comfortable, and she wasn't going to ask. However...

"I have... something I want to ask you," Miyako said softly. So many threads led to this point.

"Is it Nagayama Hiroki related?"

Miyako blinked, shifting in his arms. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"

He smiled wryly at her, and she shivered as his breath tickled the back of her neck. "Because, Miya, in the end, everyone has to ask something."

She sighed and sat up, and he made a face before following her lead. He looped an arm around her shoulder, careful to keep in contact with her.

"Okay, I'm ready. Ask away," Takeshi teased.

"I read the article... are you the other survivor he mentions there?"

A bitter chuckle. "Yeah. That one was kind of easy, wasn't it?"

She shrugged in response. "Not really... I just had a hunch."

"Better than some. Only a few people have figured it out based on that story... people just ask in case my family name isn't a coincidence and I really am the how-many-ever-great grandson of the Sugimura Takumi, beloved academic and founder of that exclusive Sendai academy."

Miyako sighed and leaned against him, relieved at his response. "You don't mind if... I ask another?"

"I've answered a lot of questions already," Takeshi said, beginning to rub her shoulder.

"Umm... what were you like as a teenager?" He blinked, and she bit her lip. "Did I offend you? I'm sorry."

"No, I'm just used to people wanting to know about _him_."

Miyako paused to smile at him. "I don't have any reason to care about him." Takeshi stared at her for a few moments, eyes heavy-lidded and lips parted, before leaning forward, and-

The apartment phone rang, and they stared at the handset for a few moments before Takeshi finally decided to get up and answer whoever was trying to get into his apartment.

"Sugimura Take-"

"Hey sempai!"

Miyako could hear the shout from where she sat, and looked over. Takeshi had one arm against the wall, and was staring hard into the little screen to see the figure at the door.

"What do you want?"

"Is that any way to treat your best friends?" A plaintive cry, and Takeshi balled his fist. "Come on, let's play."

"Get lost, Nagayama," Takeshi said harshly. "Won't your perfect reputation be ruined if you were caught here?"

"Haah! Did you hear that?" The young man called his friends, looking away from the camera to beckon them. "He sounds like he cares!"

Miyako crept closer, placing a hand on his wrist. Takeshi looked up, suddenly, and smiled at her.

"I'm not asking," Takeshi said quietly. Something made the hair on the back of Miyako's neck stand on end and she looked away, but he stopped her from leaving.

"That's funny." Nagayama looked directly at the camera and his eyes seemed to stare straight through to them. "Neither was I." He hung up abruptly, leaving the pair standing in silence. Miyako was suddenly torn. This was probably the only chance for her to see if her gut feeling – that there was something strange about Nagayama Hiroki – was really true. The odds of meeting him like this...

"Brat, as usual," Takeshis murmured, pulling on his coat. He slipped his keys and wallet into the inner breast pocket and sighed, looking over at her. "I'll be right up-"

"No," Miyako said, pulling on her jacket. "I think it's best if I-"

"He's a monster," Takeshi said, interrupting her. "He's ruthless and he'd know exactly how to use you against me. Just stay here."

Miyako crossed her arms. "No way."

"Why?"

"If you insist on making me stay against my own will, I'm leaving right now, and I won't call you or answer your calls, even if you end up lying in the gutter."

"How brash," Takeshi smiled, placing his hands on her arms to draw her close. "It must be the wine."

She grinned up at him, uncrossing her arms. "You'd be surprised."

23:49, December 4. Outside Takeshi's apartment, Aoba District, Sendai.

There was a group waiting outside the foyer, passers-by occasionally looking to see what the commotion was about, but in the end deciding to walk away. Miyako half wished she could do the same – these kinds of confrontations didn't end well for civilians, and for spies, it often ended in bloodshed. However, this was a precious chance. She had to find out more about Lucia, and something told her that Nagayama Hiroki was involved.

"Yo, sempai!" Hiroki raised a hand with a smile, and one of the figures behind him raised an objection.

"Mi...Miyako-san!"

it was Kazuma. They were all dressed for a night out, but there was one person who caught her attention primarily because of the colour of her eyes. They were the silver, all-seeing eyes of a Hyuuga. She was wearing a designer dress – by that girl Hibi was obsessed with, what was her name again? – that glimmered in the dim light of the street lamp, and she did not wear a coat despite the weather, and everyone else's attire. They locked eyes for a moment, and the Hyuuga flashed her a feline smile before Kazuma broke the moment again.

"You... and Sugimura-sempai?"

"It's none of your business, Kazu," Takeshi snapped. "What do you want, brats?"

Hiroki sneered. "Always putting on a tough front, aren't you?"

The beautiful young woman on his arm shifted uncomfortably, and he tensed as she pulled on his arm. "Come on, Hiro. It's cold. I want to go to the loft. Don't you want to go inside?" Michiru asked, her voice sweet and husky. Miyako shifted at Takeshi's side, not quite sure what to say or do. Hiroki watched them both, and didn't take his eyes off them as he simply shrugged her off with a sharp gesture. The blonde merely sighed.

"You … really don't get it, do you?" She asked quietly, turning her back on him.

"Chiru-chan," the Hyuuga spoke up for the first time, coming into the light, her hair gleaming silver as it swept against her cheeks. "It's fine, Hiroki-kun is just … having a tantrum. Anyone could see that, right, Sugimura-san?"

Takeshi only gave her a strange look, and she smiled serenely before turning around, the bell on the short sleeves of her silver dress jingling. "I want a drink," she announced, walking away. The other young woman in their group decided to follow her, as did two of the men – Yori Daichi and Ookuchi Shinji, Miyako assumed – leaving Michiru, Hiroki and Kazuma. Michiru glared at her boyfriend, ignoring the pair entirely before walking after them.

"Looks like your friends are sick of y-"

The snide comment went unfinished as Hiroki took a step forward, swinging his fist at Takeshi. It caught the older man on the jaw, and he staggered with the force of the blow, grunting as Miyako reached out to steady him.

"You are dead to me," Hiroki said quietly, sending chills down her spine. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned, trash, you are invisible. Have been since that summer." He rubbed his knuckles, his hands shaking, and turned to Miyako.

"And you, you're better off with a real man. This guy... will get you nowhere."

"Then what inspired your trip to see a ghost?" She stared him down defiantly. "Your little posse's going to get you out of Sendai, is it?" She rolled her eyes. "You are a _nobody _and that scares you."

Kazuma stepped between them and held his hands up to assuage his friend's temper. "Hiro, she..."

"Forget the bitch, I'm going for another drink," Hiroki grumbled, walking away, hands jammed in his pockets. Kazuma turned to her.

"You shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't even be here!" Miyako snapped at him. " And don't you dare think you can tell me what to do! Leave – I'm sick seeing your face!"

Kazuma was about to say something, but thought the better of it, bidding them a quiet farewell before following in his friends' footsteps.

"Didn't even apologise," Miyako grumbled. Takeshi sighed and rubbed his jaw, straightening.

"I'm... sorry about that. Did you want to go home?"

"No, I'm fine, it's-"

"I want to leave this place for a while," Takeshi said, looking up at the moon. It was a quiet plead, and she smiled.

"Let's catch a taxi to the promenade. Suzu messaged me and said she bought me ice cream," Miyako said, wrapping her scarf around his neck. "What do you think?"

Takeshi looked down into her eyes and smiled, brushing a stray hair out of her face. "Sounds perfect."

As they stood at the kerb, waiting to flag a taxi, Takeshi captured one of her hands and, intertwining their fingers, hid them in his coat pocket to keep warm. She smiled up at him and he laughed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied, her smile widening. Miyako tightened her hold on his larger hand, and he smiled, even as he signalled the taxi driver, and she leaned into his warmth. Perhaps winter here wouldn't be so bad.


	10. Hush

So this took much, much, much longer than anticipated, because I lost at least three chapters and life got in the way. But thanks for reading (if you are) and there's more to come.

**Syndicate**

by Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Nine - Hush_

By the time they arrived at the promenade, Tenten was well aware of how easily Takeshi spoke, and could make her smile. He was interesting company and fun to be around. He could tell jokes and his laugh was open and infectious. He carried conversations effortlessly, but accepted silences without feeling the need to fill them. She had initially thought he would be an aloof character but really, he seemed more naïve than anyone she'd ever met. In a word, Sugimura Takeshi was ordinary. Perfect for the ordinary bookworm, Inoue Miyako. Easy work for Tenten, Konoha spy trained in the art of manipulation.

They arrived back at the café just past eleven, and Miyako invited Takeshi into the café kitchen, disabling the alarm habitually with a swipe of her thumb as she turned on the lights. She locked the door behind her and smiled at Takeshi, who was inspecting his purpling bruise in the reflection of the microwave window.

"Would you like some ice?" Miyako offered.

Takeshi turned to smile at her. "That would be helpful."

The brunette turned to open the freezer and rummaged around for an ice pack, knowing that Suzune kept at least three around. One of them was missing. Shrugging, Miyako pulled one out of the back of the freezer and wrapped it in a clean tea towel before handing it to Takeshi, who bowed slightly before accepting the bundle and pressing it gingerly to his cheek. The crisp air outside had stung, and the pressure now made him wince.

"I guess he's just acting out because he wants attention," Miyako said, watching him. A small smile played across her lips as she added, "And Nagayama Hiroki is a jerk, too."

"Very funny," Takeshi huffed, and she smiled at his rueful expression. "Although … I didn't expect you to do such a thing."

"Hmm?" Miyako replied absently, as if trying to change the subject. Takeshi sighed and walked over to her and pulled her towards him, wrapping an arm around her waist as she leaned comfortably against him.

"I think it would be safe to say … I would not like to get on your bad side."

Miyako grinned deviously. "Well, I have more than one, just so you know," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her, the hand holding the ice pack falling away from his cheek. Their lips brushed for an instant before the kitchen door burst open and Suzune waltzed into the kitchen, smiling and for once completely unfazed by Takeshi's presence. He quickly let go of her and wandered away, pressing the ice pack back against his cheek.

"You're home," Suzune said brightly.

Miyako nodded. "Yeah. We ran into a spot of trouble, though. You look like you're having fun," she remarked with a sly grin, noting the slightly worn lipstick and mussed hair.

"Don't say a word," Suzune pouted, and Miyako was struck by how cold her eyes seemed, and wondered where she'd seen that kind of expression before. A moment later, she realised she'd waited too long, and the red head took in a deep breath and turned away.

"Well I'll be upstairs, then," she said to no one in particular. "You're free to sit in the lounge room, if you like," she added absently, before disappearing up the stairs again.

Miyako waited until the sound of Suzune's footsteps died away, and sighed as she turned to face Takeshi, who was rummaging around in the fridge.

"Stop that," she snapped, playfully pushing him out of the way. "Yuichi-kun will throw a tantrum-"

"Have you seen Yuichi throw a tantrum?" Takeshi asked. "Copious amounts of alcohol are usually involved and I end up having to knock him out."

The image was familiar to Tenten, and bordered on dangerous territory.

"Let's go," Miyako sighed, changing the subject. "Suzu put the ice cream in our kitchen freezer, and there's nowhere to sit down here." Takeshi nodded and followed her to the side of the kitchen where Suzune had left the door up to their living room ajar. Miyako noticed that there were no extra pairs of shoes, and frowned as she tugged off her boots and put them on the shoe rack.

A feminine giggle and low, murmured response echoed down the stairs, and Miyako cleared her throat. "So, do you have any Christmas plans?" she asked, wincing inwardly. Things could be more awkward.

Takeshi paused for a moment as Miyako stuck her head back into the kitchen to turn off the lights near the door. "Well, now that you ask," he began slowly, as they walked up the stairs. "My family has an annual Christmas party, and my father invites all of my brothers back until the New Year. It's ten days of ... well, we'll just go with madness."

"You don't get along well with your family?" Hearing stories about other people's families always fascinated her.

"Well, no." Takeshi replied, following her up the stairs. "My father has four sons and a daughter, so there's always room to choose another favourite. It's always been Jin, though. Mother adores Shizuka in her own way, and she still lives with our parents despite being married with children."

"And Jin-san is..."

"The oldest," Takeshi replied tersely. "Naturally."

Miyako nodded and they reached the top of the landing, Takeshi looking around at their living room and kitchen. Everything was new, not quite orderly, and smelled like flowers, not coffee. The atmosphere seemed warm and vibrant, he supposed. Much like its occupants. "Let me guess," he said, rubbing his chin, "Suzune's uncle from Tokyo paid for the renovation."

The brunette, who had walked into the kitchen to find the ice cream, turned to look at him with surprise. "How did you know?"

"Well, in the past, you know ..." He trailed off as Miyako came back over to him, holding in her hand a teaspoon and a small white tub of ice cream. "And you have your prize," he murmured, smiling down at her as she leaned against him. Takeshi wrapped his arms around her and she playfully wriggled away from him, placing the dessert on the coffee table. It was definitely more warm up here - Suzune had left the thermostat turned up - and Miyako shrugged out of her jacket and slung it on the back of a dining chair. She held out her hand to take Takeshi's jacket as he removed his own, but he only threw the garment onto the same chair and pulled her towards him, catching her by surprise.

This time, she did not resist and merely looked up at him with a mischievous expression. "I do like your scarf," she smiled.

"I think it might look better on me than on my girlfriend," he replied loftily, and she laughed, reaching up to remove it from his neck. Takeshi leaned down to kiss her, but she avoided his efforts once more.

"You can't just say that!" Miyako protested, smiling. Takeshi only laughed and released her, taking off the scarf and draping it over the jackets.

"Fair enough. Shall we open the ice cream, my most fair and wondrous ojou-sama?"

"Shut it," Miyako snapped, slapping his chest. "That won't get you anywhere, either." He laughed and they settled down on the couch again like before - had that really only been a few hours ago? - and Miyako prised the lid off the carton and helped herself to some ice cream. The flavour was distinctly minty, and the dark chocolate added a hint of bitterness she found refreshing and not too sweet. She sighed with contentment before handing the tub to Takeshi.

"So what were we talking about?" she asked, leaning back against the couch. Takeshi was a warm, solid presence, and she felt at ease with him. The notion was disconcerting to say the least. Of course, she knew exactly what they'd been talking about. The fact that he'd let things trail off had been enough of a hint to tell her that he clearly did not want to talk about what had happened with Suzune in the past.

"Let's see ... what was your childhood like?" Takeshi asked, changing the subject entirely.

"Yamanashi's not an incredibly interesting place," Miyako said slowly, allowing him to direct the conversation. "I spent my summers picking fruit and wishing I could go to theme parks," she lied. She'd never even been to Yamanashi. "I was ... adopted when I was around fifteen, by an eccentric martial arts instructor. I swear, Bruce Lee had nothing on my sensei -"

"Little Miya-chan doing martial arts?" Takeshi grinned, passing her the ice cream. "It's unbelievable."

Miyako blushed and bit her lip. This was getting risky. She sighed and helped herself to more of the dessert before continuing with the half-truth. "Well, I was a tomboy. My best friend at the orphanage, Dai, was the only one my age. The others had families anyway, so ... I grew up running around the place, hating skirts but liking anything pink-coloured."

And having a fascination with anything with a sharp edge. A natural affinity, Gai-sensei had called it.

Takeshi chuckled. "What changed?"

"Dai was adopted, I was sent to a private girls' high school ... I grew up." Miyako became pensive and quiet, and Takeshi watched as she withdrew into herself. He himself had done the same thing barely an hour ago. As she sat there silently, she was aware that Takeshi had reached out to her and placed an arm around her shoulder, drawing her into him.

"And let's not forget your father," Takeshi reminded her with a smile, holding out a spoon of the ice cream in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Tenten knew she couldn't risk him prying anymore. She looked at him as if with new eyes, and smiled, obediently accepting the offered dessert.

Without warning, she reached up and pulled his mouth to hers, the coldness of ice cream and mint and chocolate giving way to his warmth, slowly and quietly. Miyako pulled away to catch her breath and blushed in spite of herself, turning away to hide from Takeshi's sly grin.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," she mumbled, but he only continued to smile at her, and kissed her again, with more fire than she'd anticipated.

_Careful_, Tenten warned her, _you could get burned. There'll be nothing left but ashes_.

Miyako didn't listen. Instead, there was only the sound of her quiet sighs as he ran his lips across her neck and she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse and the buckle of his belt.

The spoon lay on the floor, forgotten.

As Tenten woke up, she became aware of a few things without even opening her eyes. Firstly, she wasn't in her own bed; she could feel the hard base of the couch beneath her. Secondly, she was not alone on the couch, she was all too aware of the scent of someone else sleeping at her side, the heat emanating from their bodies enough to ward off any chill. Thirdly, she was only wearing her undergarments. And the person sleeping behind her was making no pretence of sleep, his hands freely roaming her skin as his breath fanned across the nape of her neck. Think.

Sukiyaki.

Wine.

Takeshi.

Tenten pursed her lips.

Nagayama, and the Hyuuga.

Ice cream.

Lips brushed against her skin and she fought a smile.

Blouse hanging from a nightshade.

Thank you, Tenten thought dryly, for stating the obvious.

"Stop faking it," Takeshi whispered in a low voice.

"Stop doing that," Miyako replied tartly as she nudged his hand away from the curve of her breast. Undeterred, he left his hand on her hip and she sighed, stretching against his lean body. She noticed that their legs were intertwined; his weight was heavy and just ... different, the feel of his hands foreign. His scent was almost musky and unfamiliar, unlike the clean subtleties of Hy- ... _him_.

She was glad he couldn't see her face. Nevertheless, her heart betrayed her, and she felt it thud out of synch with the heart beating at her back. Thankfully, Takeshi said nothing, and Tenten realised the tension that had gathered in her shoulders gave way as if she had sighed. She was off her game this morning.

Without another word and her eyes still firmly shut, Miyako turned over to face his chest, crossing her arms over her own to put some distance between his pulse and hers. It was unnerving; she hadn't been this close to another person other than _him_ in so long. The notion brought a dull, throbbing headache and Miyako gave an involuntary groan, and Takeshi chuckled breathily. She pushed her hand against his chest, but they were saved from speaking at the sound of the door at the bottom of the stairs opening, and Suzune stomping as best she could in house slippers up the stairs.

Suzune paused at the landing and drew in a sharp breath before walking over and placing something on the coffee table before turning abruptly. As she reached the stairs again, she said in a low voice, "Drink it when you finally bother to get up."

They waited until the door slammed shut moments later before breaking the silence again.

"She's not a morning person, I see," Takeshi said, grinning.

Miyako sighed and nestled closer to him. "Neither am I."

"You're working in the wrong place, then," he replied, running his hand over her cheek, and finally, she opened her eyes. And just like she'd feared, her heart seemed to sink just that little bit more when she realised she'd hoped to see the face of another man. Takeshi smiled at her. "Good morning," he said, kissing her gently.

"Good morning," Miyako replied evenly.

She cringed as they heard another crash from downstairs, and sat up and reached for the cup of tea Suzune had left, and handed the mug of black coffee to Takeshi. It was hot, but had cooled enough to drink. They drank quickly in a grateful silence, Miyako with an arm crossed over her chest to cover herself. He chuckled at the sight and placed a kiss on her shoulder.

Miyako pulled a face and placed the empty cup on the table. "You're teasing me, somehow," she said, turning to face an immensely bemused Takeshi.

He shrugged. "I just thought you wouldn't mind; it's nothing I haven't seen already," he said casually, raising the cup to cover his mouth. Miyako narrowed her eyes and Takeshi almost dropped his cup.

"That's a pretty scary face, Miya-chan."

"I'm not in a good mood," she said archly.

He chuckled. "Hmm, it seems to be going around this morning." hesitated, as if weighing his words, and continued. "I'm not surprised, considering what happened yesterday."

Miyako began looking around for her clothes and settled for pulling the blanket back over her chest. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, and Takeshi watched her, concerned.

"Are you okay?"

Something didn't add up.

"Take it easy. I knew you were a lightweight, but I didn't think you'd even had enough wine to fall asleep," Takeshi smiled wryly, and she looked away. "Although I would really laugh if you were still drunk."

Disorientation. Headache. Dehydration. The memory block suddenly made sense. She, or more accurately, _they_ had been drugged, since they'd both been eating exactly the same things since yesterday evening.

"Fall asleep?" Well, she had been wearing clothes (however scant) when she woke up. "Does that mean that we …?"

The silence said enough and she had the grace to blush. The fact that he was still here added to her theory, although she wasn't sure if he was the type to leave after that kind of a mortifying experience. Takeshi sighed and placed the cup back on the table, and she hesitated for only an instant before leaning over and wrapping her arms around him.

"What's –"

His eyes widened as she kissed him, but as she broke away, her cheeks still pink, she knew that her suspicions had been correct. Now, only to find out what it was …

"I need some clothes," she mumbled, looking around, trying to recall what had happened. Their clothes were folded neatly on the table, his jacket was where he had left it, and his scarf lay on top. The sink was empty – there had been something else in this picture, but it was gone now.

The ice cream.

_B__itch. _

"Miya-chan?" Takeshi came up behind her and draped the blanket over her head as he reached for his pants, and pulled them on, and Miyako could hear him hopping awkwardly. She waited until he pulled the blanket off and smiled up at him as he draped the scarf around his neck. "Is everything okay?"

There was another crash, and Miyako wondered absently if they even had customers. Suzune normally stayed out of the kitchen, it was Yuichi's domain.

"I think … it might be better if you head off first. Take Yuichi with you, if you can."

"I didn't want to get you into trouble," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay," Miyako replied, shaking her head. "There's just been a misunderstanding."

"I'll call you later, okay?"

He kissed her swiftly and draped his jacket over a shoulder and left the room, quickly walking down the stairs and slipping into the kitchen. She heard the heavy back door open and close and ran up the stairs two at a time, dressing quickly once she arrived in her room.

There was only one thing that they would have been poisoned with last night. It was a drug commonly used when they needed to knock out a target, it was most effective at around four degrees Celsius so the usually mixed it into drinks with ice. The operatives who had been the first to use it nicknamed it 'Sleeping Dragon', as those who woke up after the dosage wore off were slightly more aggressive than usual. So, it was commonly used with a different compound, which others had inventively called 'Rise and Shine' that helped with the side effects of the Sleeping Dragon drug, namely dizziness, disorientation and photosensitivity. The compound had a bitter aftertaste, so they often added it to juice or coffee. So, everything lined up – first the ice cream, and then the coffee. There was no mistaking what had happened yesterday. Now all she had to find out was who, and why.

Tenten rummaged through her wardrobe and found a small zipper pouch that contained several vials of liquids and powders – but none had been depleted. Which meant that …

"So that's where you kept it."

She whirled around and found herself staring at her own gun and silencer in Suzune's hands.

"Drop your weapon and keep your hands where I can see them." Her voice was cold and calm and her hands were steady, unfaltering. She was a professional, there was no doubt.

"Who are you?" Tenten asked, sliding her knives out to the side of the room so Suzune would see.

"I don't suppose there's a point in me asking you the same, so don't bother asking me."

"Well you need to be a retired agent," Tenten said, slowly rising to her feet. "Otherwise you'd never be running this safe house. Did you really think I was a civilian? You know exactly what it is you're in the middle of."

"Did they try to tell you that I had nothing to do with the agency? Figures," Suzune scoffed. "Tsunade never liked me anyhow, probably didn't want me influencing you or anything."

"The drugs weren't necessary. If you'd been upfront with me I would have stayed over at Takeshi's."

"I told you I had company," Suzune replied, as if that had explained everything.

"You didn't tell me you would have a potentially wounded agent coming, fresh off some kind of dangerous mission!" Tenten shot back, her eyes blazing. "It was totally reckless, you left all of these stupid things lying around – one of the icepacks were gone, the first aid kit was missing, too many alcohol bottles were sitting in the sink and the place reeked of coffee to cover the smell of blood."

"And why would a civilian notice?"

"Why would you risk compromising an agent's cover? Like now, for instance," she snarled. "That gun is an empty threat. You don't want a body of an agent to deal with. Besides, what if Yuichi comes back? You're lucky I sent Takeshi out with him."

"I guess you're right about that," Suzune said with sarcastic cheer. "Thank you for being so considerate."

"Good. So get my gun out of my face so I can kick your ass for drugging me, you two faced bi-"

"Do you think you've even got a chance?" The red head tilted her head to the side, but made no other movement.

"There's only one way to find out," Tenten grinned. "I've been itching for a fight for weeks."

Suzune pulled the safety and slowly put it on the ground, her eyes never leaving that of her opponent. As she straightened, slowly, Tenten flew across the room and pushed her out of the room, slamming her against the wall of the narrow corridor.

"You're really angry aren't you?"

"You have no idea," she snarled, and Suzune slipped from her grip and brought her knee up into Tenten's side. Suzune swept her feet out from beneath her and she fell heavily on the floor, winded and almost blind with rage.

_You're getting sloppy. _There were two voices in her head this time.

"But let's face it," Suzune smirked. "You're angry that you're getting so rusty."

Tenten jumped to her feet as the red head turned to go down the stairs. Suzune yelped as Tenten tugged on her ponytail, pulled her back and smashed the side of her head into the wall with enough force to make her see stars. Dizzy and swearing, she spun, her arms raised to strike back, but Tenten blocked the blow and slipped past her defence, landing a punch on Suzune's stomach. As her opponent keeled over, Tenten backed away, and when she looked up again, there was fury in Suzune's eyes as well. Just in time. Tenten took a deep breath and grinned.

"Touch a nerve, did I? You've been off the grid for years, obviously. You're nowhere near good enough to keep up with me. Let me guess, you were another one of those sub-par agents with a generic code name and faded into obscurity after some vague stuff up on a mission."

Suzune charged forward again, her fists raised, but Tenten was able to block her once again they traded blows, with the redhead seeming to slowly get back into a rhythm, movements that her body remembered, as she struck back with enough strength to bruise. It was then that Tenten began to realise that Suzune was a natural at fighting; one of those monsters like Neji and Lee. At the top of her game, she would have been a force of-

Her train of thought was shattered as Suzune slapped her hard across the face, and she was pushed against the wall, an arm pressed against her windpipe.

"You know nothing about me," Suzune hissed. With tears in her eyes, Tenten shoved back, tasting blood in her mouth, her teeth baring themselves angrily. This had long since spiralled out of control.

"Then tell me!" Tenten shouted, her fists raised. "You're such a coward, hiding behind this façade of –"

And then, in a voice barely audible, Suzune replied, "I'm Calico."

"What?"

Suzune stared back defiantly. "My codename," she said loudly, as her eyes blazed with pride. "Is Calico."

Then, as if on cue, a sweet scent seemed to fill the corridor, and Suzune looked around with a dim smile. "Ah, I forgot," she whispered, falling to the ground. "The codeword …"

Tenten covered her mouth and nose, remembering that the house was rigged to lock down and knock out everyone within when the trigger was spoken by the owner, but it was too late. And as her eyes drifted shut and her pain faded away, all she could hear was the two of them telling her that she should have known better.

"Hush," she mumbled.


	11. Mission 1: Calico

Syndicate

By Tanya Lilac

_Mission 1: Calico_

Summer. Ten years ago, Sendai.

"I thought I told you; I never want to see you again!"

"Come on, Suzu, you know it was just a joke!"

They'd had this conversation before. Suzune didn't pause, or look back, and just continued walking with her suitcase through the station. She'd said everything that she would ever need to this person, he was as good as dead to her now.

"Are you really running away? You're just a coward, aren't you?"

She stopped walking, letting the person behind her catch up. "Ah, Suzu, I knew that all you wanted was a hug."

"Take… Sugimura!" She snapped, whirling around with a hand up. "You are without a doubt, the biggest jerk I have ever met! If I died in an hour I would be so pissed off that you were the last person to see me off in Sendai. I am so sick of your face –"

"Your mother told me you're heading off to Tokyo for some summer camp before you start at Waseda, so I just wanted to say –"

"What, Sugimura? Sorry? Because that's not going to cut it, not after –"

He cut her short with a hug, pinning her arms safely, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"I'm glad, you know, you're getting away from this city. You were meant for better things than what we could give you here. Maybe go overseas or something."

"I hate you, Sugimura," she said, her voice muffled by his chest. "I hate you so much."

"I know," he sighed quietly, patting her back, and groaned as she kicked him sharply in the shin.

He grinned at her and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she had taught herself to hate. Of all people, he had been the easiest to say goodbye to, or so she had thought.

"Touch me ever again and I will make you regret it," she said darkly as she turned back around and continued on her path through the station. As she passed through the ticket barrier, she was struck by the notion that leaving Sendai for good was the best decision she had ever made.

* * *

Tokyo, April 21. Ten years ago.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Suzune sighed as she stopped outside her favourite restaurant, spying a familiar face sitting at the counter. At that precise moment, her turned and saw her, and began to wave frantically.

"Why am I followed around by the most idiotic guys?" she muttered, before opening the door and entering the restaurant. She sat down next to him, and ignored the enthusiastic greeting of the chef.

"What a coincidence –"

"Stalking is a crime you know," Suzune interrupted him. "Have you been spying on me?" she asked. The sheepish look he gave her was enough to confirm her accusation.

"Come on, just hear me out here. I've been looking for you all day."

"Tokyo," she said slowly, "must be a smaller city than I expected."

"Not many people say that," he replied with another bright, cheery smile.

"I don't care. I'm leaving." She turned on the bar stool to leave and he placed a hand on her arm.

"Please don't go, just hear me out, Ichiraku-san." She looked at his hand and then back up at him, and he raised his hands as if to placate her. "It'll be my treat."

Suzune sat back down, and opened the menu, without glancing at him a second time.

Ogawa Akira smiled quietly to himself. It had been harder than he'd expected to get a hold of this young woman, but that problem had been solved once they'd found out that she was enrolled at a prestigious university in Tokyo, studying Chinese classical literature, of all things. Nonetheless, she was taciturn and evasive at every turn. Knowing just what she was capable of, perhaps this shouldn't have come as such a surprise.

"Well?" Suzune asked, forty five minutes later, after polishing off a generous bowl of _oyakodon_. A woman of simple pleasures – somehow, he admired that. "What is it that you'd like to talk about?"

Akira had let his yakisoba go cold a while ago, and had only been drinking beer for the past twenty minutes, trying to think of what to say. She had ignored him completely while eating and now turned to face him expectantly.

"I want you."

Her expression did not change as she moved to pick up her bag and coat.

He sighed. It had sounded better in his head. "Oh come on, you know exactly what I mean! There's nothing weird going on here!"

"According to everyone else in this restaurant, that's clearly not the case," she said dryly, casting a look around the establishment.

"Admit it," he grinned, putting a hand on her shoulder, "You want to be convinced and wooed like everyone else."

"Did you just say, 'woo'?" She asked, looking down at his hand, which he hastily retracted.

"For once in your life," Akira began, "People are looking at you differently and praising you for different reasons. So suddenly, you're starting to wonder if, maybe, they're all right and you can do more than you can imagine. And it kind of feels you've been set free from a lot of expectations you were used to having, right? Maybe the life you've been leading up to now hasn't been the path you were destined to take; it was just convenient for you to walk it because someone else had laid it out for you."

She didn't reply, and he knew that he had somehow managed to get through to her.

"One hour, tomorrow afternoon after you finish your classes. That's all we want from you. An hour of your time and you can think about it. And after you make up your mind, if you never want to see us again, we can live with that."

He left a bill on the table and handed her a business card with an odd air of formality she had felt around her parents all the time, as a child. She accepted it without saying much, but she did catch the phrase, "Tactical operations director". He was a bigger fish than she'd originally thought.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Calico-chan."

* * *

Tokyo, April 22. Ten years ago.

The next day, as promised, she found Akira standing around in the courtyard of her faculty in a business suit. Mistaking him for yet another fourth year student making the occasional appearance on campus, she had walked right past him until he called out, "Ichiraku-san!" This of course, had been loud enough for everyone around her to hear and she stopped and turned around with a sigh, unable to escape embarrassment.

"Hey, Calico-chan," he grinned, standing as she approached.

She scowled. "Don't use that name here," she snapped.

"Boring class?" He asked pleasantly as they began to walk out of the campus. Girls were turning to look back at them, giggling and hiding coy smiles.

"Annoying appointment," she snarled.

"Well it will only take another …" he checked his watch. "Fifty five minutes of your time."

They caught a taxi into the downtown corporate district in complete silence. He already knew she didn't want to make small talk. They had met each other for the first time roughly four months ago. Well, to be more precise, she had seen him from afar and he'd only been made aware of her existence perhaps two weeks after that. She had signed up for Konoha's Summer Program on a whim and had been accepted, without really knowing what she was getting into. Since overseas travel was obviously out of the question, she had simply entered her details into a form one of her teachers had given her and sent it along to a company in Tokyo.

She had expected some kind of summer internship in a large office, photocopying and the like. But when the package arrived with all of the glossy brochures, she felt the burning desire to find out what was really happening, with its sweeping grassy fields, classes to 'enrich the mind'; a program exclusively designed for the 'exceptionally gifted and talented'.

Many of the classes had been fairly easy – history, geography and other foreign languages were nothing new since she had spent time travelling with her father, a diplomat, until she entered high school at sixteen. Combat training had come almost as naturally as breathing. This had caught everyone by surprise, and she'd turned a lot of heads. It wasn't until the program had ended and she had politely refused to sign up for their 'cadetship program' that Akira first started looking for her.

The taxi stopped in front of a tall building in the business district. The building was similar to those around it, non-descript and unassuming. Suzune got out of the taxi as Akira paid the driver. There were people walking around, heading to and from appointments, leaving work early, or coming in late. It didn't seem like the kind of place to find an intelligence agency.

The tour did not last long; although she had not been here before, Suzune had a feeling that there were only certain things that he was allowed to show her. He hadn't even tried to persuade her to join yet, but they had passed by many training rooms full of people, from those her age up until middle aged men, with grey hair moving just as nimbly and with as much deadly force as a panther.

"Combat training, logistics, simulations … everything you learned during your summer vacation is just the tip of the iceberg. If you decide to work with us, we will provide you with accommodation, as well as part time employment on your days off study. Nonetheless, we would require you to finish your university degree…" Akira sighed as she paused by the one way mirror, looking into the dojo. "But of course, that was always a part of your plan, wasn't it?"

"Sorry? Oh yes, right," she replied distractedly, her eyes watching their movements.

"Why don't you join them?" he asked, leaning against the glass.

"I couldn't possibly…" she trailed off, concentrating on the demonstrator's movements. It was a class about evasion, and how to use the enemy's weight against them; a more defence-oriented lesson with roots in martial arts styles like Judo and Aikido.

"Don't you ever feel like … you could make a difference somehow? I know … about your past, and where you come from." He paused and watched as her eyes narrowed when the demonstrator completed a complicated manoeuvre, trying to comprehend the shift of weight and balance behind it. "You fear being locked up in a cage and being told what to do day in and day out. It's the reason why you decided to sign up for the Summer Program, and why you decided to leave Sendai for a private university in Tokyo."

She turned and fixed her eyes upon him. "What are you getting at?"

"Somewhere deep inside you, you want to do this. You want to see how far you can go, and see how big the world really is. The truth is, all you really want to do is find yourself. You want to live life on the edge, away from obligations and reputation."

Suzune grew very still, and he knew he was right. The story was similar to many of the women who joined Konoha; for some it was country, for others, it was about identity. They knew what kind of opportunities this job provided, and they weren't afraid to give up everything for the cause.

"What do you say?" He asked solemnly. "Will Ichiraku Suzune take the first steps to becoming Calico, or will you have to lock her in a box full of your other secrets? There's a side to you that you need to let out, and there's a whole other world just waiting for you to explore it."

She turned to meet his eyes, finally. The rest, as they would eventually say, was history.

* * *

After she joined Konoha (passing all the tests in flying colours), Akira was assigned as her handler; something that came as a surprise to neither of them. She was welcomed into the fold and told her friends only that she had received an internship at a small firm of translators, doing the usual things like data entry, photocopying, making coffee. In reality, on Tuesday and Wednesdays (her days off) and the weekends, she would head to the Konoha training compound and take lessons from Akira.

They always started with hand to hand combat, but Akira always won every sparring session. Every bout with Akira was exhilarating and constantly frustrating, he always had another trick up his sleeve, or he would read her movements perfectly and counter swiftly and with efficiently cruel precision.

"What's your secret?" Suzune asked, panting as she looked up at him from the training mat. He had swept her out onto her back with a low kick – one she had lost the energy to evade. Akira had explained a little bit about his muscle memory theory – she had been trained in different styles of dance as a child; in hindsight, this somewhat explained her affinity for combat. "Did you dance as well?" she smiled.

He shrugged. "All I can do is the result of pure hard work, you could say. More blood, sweat and tears than I'd care to mention."

Suzune gave him a dubious look.

"Anyone can swing their fists around, that's easy. But to hit something, or get rid of any number of opponents without getting hurt yourself requires thought as well, not just strength," he explained. "Think on your feet. Read your opponent. You don't need to fight clean. Just do what you need to, and only that, for the success of the mission. You never know when you'll need your strength in an emergency."

Even though he said this, when they fought, Akira was always unreadable; he was a wall of silence and complete emotional invulnerability.

Grinning, he held out his hand and she grudgingly handed him her drink bottle. "Good girl. Now, ready to get your ass kicked again, twinkle toes?"

She got to her feet. "Are you?"

* * *

The other side of her training was new; summer program participants weren't allowed to handle firearms and settled for melee weapons, most of them dull. But nothing had really prepared her for muzzle flash, the recoil and the smell of gunpowder and gun oil, the instantaneous sensations of this machine that did nothing but cause harm and death.

She sat down heavily on the bench outside the firing range and tossed her glasses and ear protectors into the tray Akira held out for her. Her mouth was dry and her hands shook as she reached for her bottle of water, and Akira was reminded how young and inexperienced she was.

"Have you ever killed someone?" She asked, looking straight ahead at the wall. He had known this question would be coming somewhere down the line.

"Yes," he said, missing a beat.

"Was it in self defence?"

"Not always." Akira looked to the side, shifting uncomfortably. There was something unsettling about her tone of voice.

"Were you ordered to do it?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you remember the first one you..."

"I remember them all, some way or another. Some really stay with you, though."

She took another greedy gulp of water from her bottle and Akira sat down next to her. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand and sighed.

"How do you live with it? Knowing that you've taken a life?"

"This world we live in is only shades of grey. From the start, everything you do is for the sake of the mission. But this mission is for something greater than just one person, or even Konoha. This is all for the future of our country. If you don't believe in that, then you will die very young and in any number of horrible ways."

Silence lapsed for a full twenty seconds as she absorbed this.

"You kill your own?!" She asked, paling with shock.

"No, you idiot," he said, laughing and poking her in the forehead. "I'm saying you need to be wholeheartedly committed to this cause and to our country, and trust us. Every time you go out into the field, you place your life in our hands. If you're not one of us, your heart will waver and somewhere down the line, you'll stray from the path, and fall. And there's nothing we can do to help you then."

She swallowed thickly.

"Were you like that from the start?"

He grinned. "Maybe, maybe not. That, grasshopper, is a tale for another day. Run along to the shower now, and leave that jacket here."

She scowled. "Don't treat me like a kid!"

* * *

_June 5, ten years ago. Tokyo._

A few weeks later, they had their first surveillance assignment. They watched an influential figure in the mining and exploration figure for three evenings, tracking his movements and noting his habits. Akira hadn't let her read the mission file and taught her the basics in profiling.

"Profiling is half science and half intuition. It all depends on the response you need to provoke from your target," he said. She was rifling around in his glove box and he pushed her hands aside and slammed it shut. "Seriously, Suzune cut it out! I know you find it boring but this could easily save your life!"

She turned to him, her cheeks slightly pink, and gave him a wide smile. His eyes narrowed.

"You're kind of a messy guy, you don't care about your appearance much but you're really meticulous about certain things. Money, for example. Your wallet is very neat and you never fumble with it; you know exactly where everything is. You don't have any pets but your girlfriend has a cat, maybe Siamese. You've got a decent sense of humour, you're hard working but you have a lot of repressed issues with-"

Silence fell as she stopped herself and he watched her from the driver's seat, rather bemused.

"You got a few things wrong. First, Morita-san has a Persian cat. Secondly, I have an excellent sense of humour, thank you very much."

"Morita-san, hey?" She smiled knowingly. "See, it's easy."

"You've known me for a while now. What about someone on the street? You need to pick up any details you can and exploit them. Can they handle themselves? Are they a threat to you? Knowing how to read into people can save your life, knowing when you need to run or create a distraction."

"Or fight."

He tensed and she froze, following his gaze out the windscreen. Their target had left his favourite restaurant and instead of catching a taxi, was walking down the street towards Akira's car. Definitely out of the norm.

Without warning, he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned towards her, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek and his lips brushed lightly across her skin. Her eyelids lowered and she whispered, her voice low and husky, "Where is he headed? I can't see the mirror."

"Quiet, or I'll really -"

He stopped talking as she wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and peering around his head into the mirror, the sound of footsteps slowing as their target approached the car.

Akira placed a firm hand on her shoulder once more, this time to pin her back against her chair and capture her lips. Suzune closed her eyes, and gasped as his hands brushed against her blouse and crept up beneath, sliding up her back as he pulled her closer with the slightest pressure in his fingers.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled away and the warmth was gone, leaving only her racing heartbeat and heavy breath. She opened her eyes and found Akira putting on a scarf and buttoning up his jacket.

He cast her a sly look. "Swept off your feet so soon?" He grinned, looking in the rear-view mirror to see where their target was headed. He was heading towards some residential apartment blocks; most likely an expensive studio he shared with his mistress of the week.

There was a tap on the windscreen and Suzune jumped, reaching for the glove box instinctively. Akira shot her a fierce look and turned around to look out the window, his expression changing to one of innocent confusion. It dropped the moment he realised who it was.

"My, my, what would Morita-san think?" Their visitor purred with a wicked grin.

"What are you doing out here, Anko?" Akira sighed.

"Taking over. We received intel that he was making the exchange tonight."

"What?! A week in advance?" He tried to open the door but Anko all but kicked it shut.

"You know how quickly the weather changes in the field. Report back to HQ tonight, this is no place for a trainee, even with someone as skilled as yourself. Abort the surveillance mission."

"Anko-"

"This is what the Director himself told me. Abort the mission or I will forcibly remove the both of you from this area," Anko said, her voice cold.

"Can I have a word? Ichiraku, stay in the car."

Taken aback by the formality of the exchange, Suzune complied wordlessly and stared as they walked off, and noticed only now that they had left, that special forces teams were now gathering, dressed all in black, and revising their strategy. She watched as they stood ramrod straight, all in a line, as they waited patiently for their signal to execute their plan.

Akira and Anko were still talking; he was gesturing expressively, but she merely shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't make me pull rank on you," she seemed to be saying. For the first time, Suzune realised that she was keeping Akira from his true line of work. All he was right now was her babysitter, when really he could have been the head of this operations team.

She sighed and waited for him to come back to the car. Without a word, he pulled away from the kerb and they drove back to Konoha's headquarters.

"Hey, let's go for a drink," Suzune said brightly.

He gave her a wry look. "You're underage. And your cardigan is buttoned up wrong."

She looked down and unbuttoned her cardigan with a shrug. "They won't care. And that wasn't an invitation. I'm not just an asset, I'm only human. And I'm fairly sure you owe me a drink or two for blatant sexual harassment."

"Ever the opportunist." He found himself smiling.

"I'm not an Ichiraku for nothing, you know."

After dropping by Konoha's operational HQ, they filled in some basic forms detailing that the mission had been aborted; the proper report would need to be completed when they returned to work on Monday.

"So, where to?" Suzune asked as they got back into the elevator. He gave her another look.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Akira sighed, when all she did was blink up at him, and he remembered how young she really was.

"I'm always deadly serious about everything," she replied. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat something."

He pulled a face. "I bought ingredients to make _nabe_ and everything..."

"Then make it, I'll come over!" She smiled.

"That's inappropriate," he said curtly, turning to face the elevator doors. He should just let her catch a taxi home or something.

"It would be more inappropriate if you came to my apartment, or took a minor to an _izakaya_. Come on, it's just dinner. You're my superior but you're not that much older than me, people do this all the time."

He sighed, knowing that if he refused her, she would make things difficult for him over the next few weeks. Or so he told himself. "Fine, you can come over for _nabe_. But you can't stay over, okay?"

Suzune smiled, her victory akin to that of a cat that had caught a mouse to toy with.

Akira's inner-city apartment, as predicted, was clean and orderly. It was a typical living, dining, kitchen arrangement with a bedroom; in all, worth a small fortune.

He took her jacket and hung it up in the closet as she took off her shoes, and she stopped to admire the pink house slippers in the _genkan_ that sat next to the black ones that obviously belonged to Akira.

"What?" He asked, pausing to put them on as he headed towards the kitchen.

"They're cute. How long have you and Morita-san been together?" She put on the third pair; they were blue and seemed fairly new.

"Eight months now," he replied, in a tone that suggested that was all he would say on the matter.

"You don't sound too happy about that. What did you do?" Suzune prodded, padding softly into the kitchen.

"What did _I_ do? She's the one-" Akira collected himself and gave her a black look.

"Come on, who am I going to tell? You're the only one I see from work and it seems like you really need to relax. It helps to talk about this stuff." She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

Akira sighed and ruffled the back of his hair as he opened the fridge door and began to take out ingredients. Suzune put the kettle on and tied her hair into a loose bun.

"Here." Akira tossed a can of beer at her and she caught it with both hands, tapping the bottom lightly before she opened it.

"Thanks," she smiled.

They began to chop the vegetables in silence.

"So what about you?" Akira asked suddenly, taking a gulp of beer. They had finished preparing everything and now he was working on the stock.

"What do you mean?"

"Your relationship problems," he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Haven't you been spying on me?" She asked wryly, tracing her finger around the rim of the can as it perspired in the gentle warmth of the kitchen. "I have no relationships to be troubled by."

"But you were, before you came to Tokyo. In fact, your heated performance in your first few sparring matches suggested you had more than a few problems to begin with," he smirked. "Did you have a lover's quarrel when you left Sendai?"

"He was never my lover," she mumbled darkly. She took another gulp of beer and held the can close to her chest. "Not now, not in a million lifetimes."

Akira laughed. "You must really have loved him, then."

She hesitated. "You wouldn't believe it ... But then, of course, everyone knew; him especially. We were friends for a long time. He was my _sempai_, and our families had known each other for a long time."

"And then?" Akira asked, pausing in his stirring to look over at her. She had a faraway look on her face, but her eyes were shadowed.

"And then... Nothing. He grew up too fast, and took advantage of my feelings and hurt a lot of people. To be honest... I kind of feel sorry for him right now."

Akira handed her some cutlery, but she avoided eye contact. "What?"

"I said I feel sorry for him," she repeated, walking over to the dining table.

"After he took advantage of you?" He returned to his perch by the stove to watch over the simmering stock.

"Well... In hindsight I can see how naïve I was..." Her cheeks were stained red and he arched an eyebrow. Silence fell and he set a plate in front of her without comment.

"So? What happened with that guy? What changed in the space of six months?" He finally asked.

"He was kidnapped," Suzune said quietly. "He and his friend were the sole survivors of a kidnapping. It was all over the news some time ago."

"I'm familiar with the story," Akira said. It had been hard to miss. "So you were in love with-"

"The other one, not Nagayama. They never give his name because his family protected him." Suzune said in a detached voice. "And I'm not in love with him. Not anymore."

Sugimura's mother had called her last month, asking her to come back to Sendai to talk some sense into her son, who had been in a number of fights recently. He had needed to get stitches. Suzune had made some excuse about school and work, but all she really remembered from the phone call was how dejected his mother had sounded when she said she couldn't come back.

Silence lapsed once more, and Suzune regretted prying. Secret agents weren't always the most talkative of people, especially in the presence of colleagues – it was more of an occupational hazard that made you a liability. Akira moved the pot to the dining table and they said their thanks before eating, in silence.

"In my opinion," he said suddenly, as she was lifting a piece of cabbage to her mouth. She paused, chopsticks poised as he continued, "He's an idiot for letting you get away."

She smiled at him, feeling some kind of emotion well up that made her stomach tingle. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. "Maybe it was for the best."


	12. Spy Tricks

**Syndicate**

by Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Nine - __Spy Tricks_

December 5, 17:50. Maru Café, Sendai.

Miyako woke up for the second time that day, feeling five times more disoriented than the first. She was grateful for the softness of blanket and pillow, and murmured softly as she stretched and rolled over in her futon.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm... Yeah." She recognised the voice and tried to open her eyes, but they resisted her orders.

"Suzune-sempai said that you would be okay, just give it another few minutes."

But she didn't want this person around her at all.

"Kazuya, get out of my room right now," she said, her voice as hard as steel. "Consider yourself lucky that I don't have the strength to throw something at you right now." She heard him stand up. "And if I find you've looked in my room, or changed anything at all, there will not be a place in Sendai that can hide you," she added darkly. He didn't reply, and left her in silence, allowing her time to breathe and gather herself.

One moment, she and Suzune had been fighting; the next, she had fallen unconscious as a tranquilizer had been atomised across the house, a default defence mechanism designed to protect the owner should the need arise, once a certain trigger phrase was spoken. The information just kept on coming – Suzune was an ex-Konoha agent, and one of the best at that. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

There was no way Tsunade didn't know; you could never hide from Konoha once you were part of the 'family'. She opened her eyes and looked around, weakly lifting her arms to inspect them. Bruises already had ointment applied to them, meaning medics had stopped by, probably along with a small scouting party to double check in case hidden cameras had missed anything. She sighed and gingerly lowered her arms, still wondering what to do. Perhaps she would boil eggs for her bruises later, something Gai-sensei had taught her, Lee and - _him_.

Well, one thing was clear; she couldn't stay here tonight. Tenten closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, waiting for her limbs to regain their strength. Think.

Suzune was a spy. Takeshi was her former lover, or some complicated relationship had ended between them. There was Nagayama and his posse; something about them still intrigued her. The silver eyes of the Hyuuga flashed across her thoughts, and she didn't brush it aside. A Hyuuga with connections, or else she wouldn't have gone so long without being in the media. She had power, surely, but what did she do? The actress wasn't a way in; she was aloof and regarded other women as threats. Kazuya was desperate for attention, but the moment she succumbed, he would lose interest. The others, she couldn't remember clearly - there had been two other men and another strange girl who had kept in the shadows.

But what had been holding her back until now? Do what is necessary, a part of her whispered darkly. Her eyes fluttered open and she knew what she had to do. She rolled out of her futon, stretching, warming up her muscles before folding up the bedding. She wondered for a moment whether or not her gun had been confiscated, but was glad to find it was nestled safely in the secret compartment of her suitcase, along with her knives and holsters. There was no note – this was enough of a message. They were supposed to act like professionals. Next time, if there was one, there would be no interference.

Sighing, she took a couple of painkillers, dry swallowing them before taking off her clothes to inspect the bandages that had been applied. Suzune had left her with a significant bruise on the right side of her body, and she probably had another on the side of her face.

She sighed as she caught sight of her reflection. This was going to be tough. She just had to make sure she was wearing something that would take all the attention.

"Heading out so soon?" Suzune asked archly from the lounge room. She was lounging with an ice pack against her head. Her eyes changed as she registered what Miyako, or Tenten, rather, was wearing. "Have fun explaining those bruises."

"It worked on Takeshi," Tenten smiled sweetly, feeling a peculiar mix of satisfaction and guilt when she saw Suzune in such a state. "I'm not looking for sympathisers tonight, though." She checked her reflection in the mirror, pouting with wine red lips and batting heavy, dark lashes. Simple tricks, once mastered, could make you appeal to a target, or blend into a crowd.

"Whatever," Suzune said dismissively. "I won't wait up."

"Good," Tenten smiled, her eyes glossing over the magazines on the table. "I don't want to make you feel awkward or anything. I'm doing my job; you should just do yours." Tenten ran her hand through the ends of her hair once more, tied in a high ponytail, and smiled with satisfaction.

"Catch you later," she said absently, heading down the stairs.

* * *

December 5, 22:37. The Star, Chuo, Aoba district, Sendai.

The hotel bar was, as expected, a classy affair. Sitting on the thirtieth floor, its floor to ceiling windows overlooked Sendai's business district. The decor was uninspired; apart from chocolate hued leather stools and suede booths; everything was shiny and reflective – mirrors, steel frames and onyx tabletops. The scent of cologne and cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Business men and wealthy travellers hung about in excess, as did beautiful women. Tenten, in a grey silk dress and lace trimmed gloves, with her short, asymmetrical blonde wig and green eyes attracted a few sidelong glances, but no one here was worth looking at. Yet. Eventually, she took a seat at the end of the bar and ordered a Manhattan, which the bartender prepared with finesse and a small smile.

She discreetly slipped a tiny pill into her mouth and swallowed, waiting a few more minutes before drinking as she watched the room through its reflection in the dark windows. The pill was a small invention of Tsunade's, back in her time before she became Konoha's director. It negated the effects of alcohol, allowing agents to stay alert and functional while drinking, should the need arise. It was incredibly useful for people like Lee, who became incredibly violent and loud when drunk.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Tenten found her glass was empty as she took another sip, and placed it back onto the coaster. It had been a while since she'd been to a bar like this, but they were all the same. The faces were different but the people were the same – full of lonely souls, or parasites looking to prey on lonely souls. Things were moving slowly for a Saturday night, but instinct told her that it wouldn't be long, and that the person she was looking for would arrive soon.

"May I?"

The hairs on the back of her neck raised and she straightened, turning to face the person she'd been searching for. Indeed, he had found her first. Keeping her expression carefully blank, she inclined her head and Okuchi Shinji took a seat next to her.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said casually, raising a hand. The bartender, whom Tenten recognised as the one with the most authority, came over.

"The usual, Kameda. And for my friend here...?" He smiled at her.

"The same," she said, with a small nod.

"Right away, sir," the bartender said respectfully, and disappeared from view.

"Are you new to Sendai?"

"You could say that," Tenten replied quietly. People in Sendai seemed to think quite highly of themselves if they kept asking her these questions.

"And what brings you to a place like this tonight?"

She looked up at him with an ironic smile. "Someone like you, I guess," she said. "And you?"

He paused. "Just checking in," he said. "Someone has to make sure the place is up to scratch."

Tenten cocked her head to the side. "You don't look like a health inspector."

"You definitely have a way with words," he laughed, and she watched as his eye slid down to her lips for an instant. "I own the place. This bar was my first. I'm Okuchi Shinji. Pleased to meet you."

"How impressive," she deadpanned, and he smirked again, the sarcasm in her voice unmistakable.

"You're honest. I like that."

She smiled genuinely at him for the first time since he sat down. "I don't believe in masks,' she whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards him, watching as his eyes drifted down her neckline.

"I don't believe I caught your name."

"Shiina."

"First name, Ringo?" He asked, taking in her appearance.

"Perhaps. But that's all you get," she replied with a wry smile. "A woman has to have some secrets."

The bartender arrived with their drinks; some kind of expensive scotch in some expensive crystal glass. They were all irrelevant details.

"Then I propose a toast, Shiina-san," Shinji grinned and straightened. "To a life without masks."

She nodded and raised her glass, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She placed the glass on the counter top and slid off the stool.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked.

Tenten turned back to face him, and leaned against his chest, her gloved hand sliding up his thigh. "Meet me in the lift in exactly five minutes," she whispered, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "And I'll show you what other things I can do." She pulled away, but he stopped her, placing a hand on her cheek. His eyes were darkened with desire and want as he leaned forward and kissed her passionately. Tenten allowed herself a small smile as they broke apart.

"Five minutes," she whispered, placing a hand on his watch.

She finally made her escape to the powder room and locked the door behind her. Tenten pulled out his mobile phone, which she had lifted from his inner right jacket pocket when he had kissed her. She poured the contents of her bag out onto the table and picked up her own smart phone and launched a program that would copy all the contents of Shinji's phone across to hers. He didn't have much in the way of security, and if she was still in Tokyo, she would have ordered a copy to replace his so they could keep tracing all of his calls. Nonetheless, she had to make the most of the situation; just this phone alone would be enough to confirm her suspicions, whatever they were.

She was jolted from her musings when Shinji's phone started vibrating, sliding across the countertop. Tenten started as a familiar name appeared; Hyuuga. The picture, however, was of a young woman with silver hair. She had been the one to leave first when Nagayama's group had confronted Takeshi, Tenten remembered. Her phone beeped once, signalling that the transfer had been completed successfully. She couldn't help sighing with relief as she packed her things away and slipped Shinji's phone into her thigh holster.

She had a little more than a minute left to collect her coat, but something told her the Hyuuga wouldn't wait long before calling again. Tenten paused as she placed a hand on the lock, and the phone in the holster vibrated once more. Four rings, and then silence. She had maybe a minute left. Tenten felt her heart rate pick up and, knowing she was losing precious seconds, opened the door and made her way to the coat room, trying not to draw attention to herself. Forty five seconds.

She handed her ticket to the attendant, who bowed and disappeared. Thirty seconds.

Tenten kept her face calm, her posture relaxed. She could feel Shinji's eyes on her, but she did not turn to face him. The attendant returned, carrying her beige coat. With a smile, she slipped into it, smoothing her hem out. Making sure Shinji couldn't see what she was doing, she took his phone from the holster, dropped it into her pocket. Fifteen seconds.

She turned to look at Shinji, waiting at the elevator. With a smile, she cocked her head to the side as he approached her, and she began to walk over to him. Six seconds.

Shinji gave the attendant a significant look and the young man bowed and walked away, back towards the bar entrance.

"You're ear-" before she could finish, he had kissed her once more, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulled her into the coat room. Tenten ran her right hand up his chest once more, and slipped the phone back into his pocket with her left middle and index fingers as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. He broke away and trailed kisses down her neck, and she leaned to the side with a quiet sigh. They broke apart as his phone started to vibrate, and she cleared her throat, and smiled at him as he glanced at her and then the jacket. Knowing his lifestyle, it was always hard for someone like him to ignore a phone call.

"Just ... Hang on a second," he said, his cool demeanour all but shattered. Her mask remained intact and she straightened her coat, turning away to provide him with a semblance of privacy. "Hey, Tomi." A pause. "I'm a little busy..." She felt his gaze on her and she turned around. "Again?" He ran a hand through his hair, and rolled his eyes at her with an exasperated smile. The Hyuuga spoke for a while longer and his shoulders fell with resignation. "Alright, fine. It's my mess. Leave him to me. I'll see you soon." He hung up and sighed, and put on his jacket.

"I'm sorry, but something's come up," he said, walking over to her and holding out his arm.

"Your girlfriend?" She smiled, and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as he led her back out into the open and headed to the lift at a leisurely pace.

"Not quite," he laughed. "Are you staying at this hotel?"

"No," she replied. "I live outside Sendai."

"I see," he said slowly, and pressed the lift button. "Do you need me to take you anywhere?"

She smiled and let go of his arm. "No, I have a driver outside. I'll leave you to take care of your business here." The lift doors in front of them opened and she stepped inside and turned around, leaning against the side of the elevator. "Thank you for the drink, Okuchi-san. Feel free to wonder what could have happened if your friend hadn't called."

Shinji scoffed and placed a hand on the elevator doors, holding them open. "So you won't even give me your number?"

She crossed her arms and smirked at him. "Maybe, if we meet again." He leaned forward and kissed her softly.

"I trust that we will, Shiina-san."

At last, he stood back and allowed the doors to close.

Tenten exited the hotel and turned into the first alley she found, tossing her wig into a large bin. She let her own hair fall in loose waves, sighing as the tension left her scalp. She'd never been one for wigs, but this one had caught her attention. Nonetheless, she knew she would never use it again, it was too conspicuous. As were her black silk gloves she had bought at a nearby boutique with a credit card she had stolen from a young, aggressive thirty-something who had groped her at her at another bar she had visited prior to coming to the Okuchi's hotel.

She pulled off her jacket and flipped it inside out so the black lining was now visible on the outside; this she was her own, and designed for the purpose of evasion. Suddenly, Tenten heard whistles and catcalls from the other side of the alley and sighed. "Some guys just need to learn," she said to herself. She didn't want to go back the way she came, and this was a straight lane; there was nowhere to turn. Unfortunately for them, the only ones in danger were the men who were trying to catch her attention.

"Why don't you come for a drink?" One called as she neared them. "Our friend here is celebrating his doom!" He said, clapping the said friend on the back.

"Signing away his freedom next week," another jeered as she neared them. "Got any plans tonight, babe? Why are you so shy? We won't bite. Hard." The comment elicited more snickering and back slapping. Tenten wondered just how these people still existed. Nonetheless, just a little bit more until they were in her reach. She shrank slightly, making herself appear like a weaker target, trying to fly and not fight like she was about to.

One of them sauntered forward into the shadows, growing bold in her lack of response. He walked over and reached out to grab her arm, but she smoothly and silently shot her hand out to grab his wrist, yanked him close, and punched him in the stomach. He keeled over and fell to the ground. His friends, taken completely by surprise, called out and rushed to his aid. Of course, they'd all been drinking and were easily dispatched. An elbow to the side of the face had a habit of making it hard for people to respond. Finally, there was only the groom to be, shaking in fear.

"Just fall over," she said, shaking her head. He complied, and she tossed him the velvet ring box that his first friend, presumably the best man, had been carrying. She felt slightly guilty about it, but she had taken it out of his pocket after punching him. They needed to learn at least one lesson from this encounter. "Get some new friends," she added as she walked away. "Tell anyone about this, and I will make sure you have a most interesting wedding."

She left the alleyway as Miyako, adopting a slightly heavier gait, her face softening into one that was more open. A few blocks later, she threw out the last of Tenten's purchases, the silk gloves, and went to visit her boyfriend. Mission complete.

* * *

Hyuuga Sadako sighed as she flipped through a folder of magazine covers, all of them with one thing in common - they all featured the same person, who was currently pretty much everybody's business. The bastard was late, on top of that. She threw the file back onto the table with a sigh. After glancing around, she stirred her Ceylon tea and took a sip. At least he was going to be paying for this cup of tea, which could also be called 'extortion'. Sadako set her cup down and jumped at the sudden appearance of today's client on the chair opposite her. Her cousin, Hyuuga Neji.

"I hate it when you use spy tricks on me," she frowned. He was flipping through her folder; unfortunately, they were mostly tabloids.

"Hmmm. Now _these_ are some interesting rumours."

Sadako rolled her eyes as he tossed the folder casually on the table and opened the menu. His normal, not-a-flyaway hair had a slight wave to it this morning, and his shirt was looking slightly worse for the wear; one wrinkle was usually enough to cause him some discomfort, but this shirt had three. Three creases.

Her eyes narrowed. "You are such a bastard and I hate you. You were running late because you were with yet _another_ woman?"

Neji looked up and smirked. His cousin always had a few insults to lay on him when she met him. It probably had a lot to do with how much she had to rein in her temper with other clients. But then again, maybe not. Maybe it was just because she had to see him. Sadako fell silent as a waitress came by and took his order. Neji even smiled at her.

"I take that back," Sadako hissed. "You're scum. The lowest of the low."

"Ouch." He deadpanned. "So? Why am I here?"

"You know why. These stories have to stop." Sadako took another sip of tea. "You were already legitimised as an heir. We had a great run on a popular morning program about a while back. Why are you dragging your name through the mud now?"

He fingered the edge of the folder, and the waitress returned with a glass of water with a slice of lime floating in it. She gave him a pretty smile and he inclined his head, his eyes warm. Sadako almost threw her cup at him. Where the hell had that sullen, straight-laced brat disappeared to?

The second the girl left, Neji met her eyes with that same serious look she was so familiar with.

"For something bigger than me," he said quietly.

"You know you're hurting _her_ with all of this," Sadako said. "Even when this blows over, she'll never forgive you."

He smiled. "She's gone under, you know that."

She snorted. "You think she wouldn't be keeping an eye on you? You were the love of her life."

"I _am_ the love of her life, you mean. She could be anywhere with anyone right now. But-"

"You're whoring around for your own pleasure!" Sadako snapped. "You left her before. Last I heard, the Uchi-"

He slammed his hand on the table so hard her cup of tea fell on its side, spilling across the white table cloth.

"I don't believe you're in a position to say much about that situation," Neji said in a soft, cold voice.

The waitress ran over to see what had happened and tried to soak up the tea with a clean white cloth but her attempts were ineffectual. Neji smiled once more and reassured her everything was okay, and that it was entirely his fault. The waitress still gave Sadako a dark look as she left, and the green eyed Hyuuga merely stared at her impassively. Dark looks often paled in comparison to the glare of Hyuuga Hiashi. Worse, still, Hanabi.

Silence fell and a waiter came around with Neji's order; a warm salad, ravioli and a four cheese risotto. Sadako said nothing as the risotto was placed in front of her, along with a tall glass of pomegranate juice. She watched as Neji ate in silence, his movements careful and precise. A control freak in everything he did; even his persona was kept on a tight leash. Sadako sighed as she began to eat her risotto, which he had only ordered because he knew it was her favourite. He knew her weaknesses well, but she had so much more on him.

Eventually, after taking her time eating, she set her spoon down, and took a sip of her drink. Neji said nothing but she could see he was growing conscious of his physical state; he had tied his hair back. Sadako smiled sweetly, knowing that the longer this meeting took, the more uncomfortable he would become. "So you're really there after all. Now that we're actually speaking, cousin, I'm going to ask you to stop leaking photos to the press after I twist arms and break cameras." She placed a photo on the table, face down, and he sighed before picking it up. It was the photo that had started this mess; the one of him and Tenten that had made the most magazine covers.

"Had to start from somewhere," Sadako sighed, crossing her arms and sitting back. "I don't get what you're doing but with the way things are, Hiashi-sama will have no choice but to send you somewhere else."

"What, like a disgraced son? I don't care."

"You will," she said, standing and picking up her bag. Neji handed her the folder. "Trust me; I'm doing what's best for you. I don't care what you do in your own time, but don't go around finding these women who are so eager to kiss and tell, for crying out loud."

As she walked away from the table, she spotted a couple of journalists from a popular magazine, and smiled and bowed her head before taking out her phone and calling her next client. She hoped they would have, at least, better news for her.


	13. All Dressed Up

Sorry about the formatting issues! Hopefully they're all fixed now ... thought I was going crazy for a bit there.

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Eleven – All Dressed Up_

December 5, 23:56. Takeshi's apartment.

Miyako knocked on the door of Takeshi's apartment and waited a few moments. He opened the door looking slightly dishevelled as if he had just woken up, and a pang of guilt tugged at her chest. The izakaya owner blinked a few times as Miyako batted her own lashes at him, rapidly coming to his senses.

He cleared his throat and, with a small smile, said, "Hello, stranger."

"Mind if I come in?" she asked, smiling at him and tilting her head to the side.

"You're always welcome here, Miya."

She took off her shoes at the entrance and he took her coat and hung it up on the coat rack. Takeshi stopped to watch her, grey silk rippling across her body.

"Did I forget something? What day is it today?" He asked after a moment. She looked up at him and smiled.

"It's Thursday, and no, I just thought I'd surprise you." Miyako straightened and twirled around.

"It was definitely a … surprise," he confessed. "I didn't recognise you for a minute."

She had only taken off her lipstick and the contacts, but the remaining makeup on her eyes were considerably darker than they usually were, her hair mussed from wearing the wig, and the dress…

"There's that expression; 'all dressed up ..."

He pulled her to him and gave her a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the sheer silk. "Well, do you want to go somewhere?" He asked, tracing the back of his fingers against the curve of her cheek. Tenten knew it was a definitely bad idea. She had made sure to take a different route to his apartment this time, to shake any followers.

"Here is fine," she smiled, well aware of how she smelled like cigarettes and expensive alcohol. He, of all people, would know.

"You went out already?" Takeshi asked, releasing her and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"For a few drinks," she said slowly, following him, treading light footsteps across the floorboards.

"With Suzu?" He switched on the light, opened the fridge and took out a bottle of mineral water and turned to look at her. She leaned on the counter opposite him and massaged the side of her neck with a sigh.

"No... We haven't really spoken since this morning..." Miyako trailed off and he nodded, making a sympathetic noise. He poured her a glass and she drank gratefully.

"So you went alone," he arched an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "Looking like that."

"Nothing happened, I just had a couple of drinks at a bar. It was really low key."

"In that dress?" He asked incredulously. "I can't take my eyes off you right now. I'm not sure if I can believe it was as low key as you say it was."

She smiled, and set her glass on the counter beside her. Shinji hadn't been able to keep his hands off her as well, but that had been the point. "Do you like my dress?" she asked, closing the gap between them and wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him hesitate for all of a heartbeat – she had never been like this with him before. He responded by placing a kiss on the crook of her neck, and his hands found their way to her hips.

"I do," he murmured, trailing kisses up to her jaw line.

"What did you do tonight?" Miyako asked.

"I was thinking about calling you," Takeshi said, planting a kiss behind her ear. She almost heard him smile. "What were you thinking about at the bar?"

"To be honest, I don't know if I can continue..." She said with a quiet sigh. It had the desired effect. He pulled away and gave her a significant look, and she added, hastily, "Working with Suzu, especially over Christmas." A change in tactics. She knew what he would ask next.

"Did you think about what I asked you the other day?" His brow furrowed slightly.

"Hmm? About visiting your family for Christmas?" She asked, knowing full well what he was talking about.

He nodded, and she rest her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

"I know..." He began, "Christmas might be a bad time for you, but you won't be spending it alone this year."

"And what about you?" She asked, braced for the rumble of his voice in his chest. Had she really been Miyako, perhaps she would have baulked at the question; it was a case of too much, too soon. She had a feeling it would be much more than a family gathering.

He sighed and rest his chin on her head. "I think I'll manage, if you're with me." His heart skipped a beat, and Tenten smiled to herself.

* * *

December 6, 02:11. Maru Café.

Tenten returned home late that night despite Takeshi's insistence that she stay. She had bid him farewell at his apartment, but it was time to return to reality and find out the contents of Shinji's phone. Suzune was still lying on the couch and hadn't stirred when she came up. Tenten cursed and ran over to check if the former spy was concussed. Just as she was reaching to check her eyes, Suzune snored loudly, much to Tenten's relief. After a moment, she pulled up the blanket to cover Suzune's shoulders and turned off the lights as she headed upstairs.

Her room was untouched, the small tamper proof seal concealed near the hinge of the door left intact. Tenten sighed as she removed it and scrunched it up, tossing it into the bin as she entered her room, and wondered how long this would continue. Right now, there were more pressing things at hand, but what if - Tenten suppressed the thought. She wasn't here because people had asked "what if?". She was here because of facts and because people had asked, "why?" and "how?"

Without any more hesitation, she turned off the lights and switched her laptop on, sitting on her futon so she was facing the door. Tenten connected her phone to her laptop and started transferring all of Shinji's photos and files across, while she quickly browsed through the emails he had sent and received.

Shinji was a careful, meticulous person. He didn't use faces or unorthodox punctuation marks in his emails, and seemed to make a point of writing without slang. His photos were mainly of meals he had made, or scenery from his apparent favourite vantage points of places he frequented – most likely high rise hotels and bars. Tenten yawned and stretched as she waited for the data from her phone to finish transferring across to her laptop. If there was anything of use, she couldn't keep reading things on a tiny screen.

She had made a name for herself in her days as a trainee, for being an avid researcher. It didn't mean she wasn't as great an analyst, she had just worked better with a sounding board, who happened to be a prodigy from a wealthy family. To be clear, Tenten had always played devil's advocate, and seven times out of ten, their idea generating sessions had ended up in unexpected make out sessions. Okay, not entirely unexpected.

"So I'm reducing him to objects now," she muttered to herself. "A step up." She must be getting tired if she was reminiscing.

With a sigh, she started sifting through all of the information that was slowly compiling. There were a few pictures of Nagayama and the rest of their group, posing with statues, dancing, drinking. It didn't take long to see that they were actually friends, unless they were all bothered to make a huge effort to continue a fake existence. Tenten paused to appreciate the irony, and then began to sort through the other folders in his photo album. She came across lover's portraits; some were from years ago, while others had been taken in recent months.

But there was nothing to be found in these photos, and she sighed before closing the folders. The emails were still transferring across, and would have to wait until morning. Tenten opened a search window and after a moment of thought, typed in one word: Lucia. It was a reminder of why she was here, and the faith other people had in her.

With one final yawn and bone cracking stretch, Tenten locked her phone and computer and collapsed onto her futon without bothering to change.

* * *

December 9, 22:45. Maru Café.

The harsh light of morning brought little comfort in the coming days. Tenten found herself slipping back into old habits in the morning; waking up, reaching for the handgun under her pillow and waiting until she was sure there were no other presences in the room; taking time to stretch, or even waking up earlier than Suzune to go for a run around the neighbourhood in the early hours of the morning.

In the evenings, she would analyse the data from Shinji's phone and piece together his network of contacts; friends, family, colleagues, lovers. He met with Nagayama's group up to three times a week, and he would stay over at Hyuuga Hitomi's place at least one of those nights, but not alone; the rest of the group would be there as well. They never talked about his exploits via text, and the search for Lucia came up with no results.

She tried with different spellings; English, katakana and even different variations on kanji names, but she found nothing. Still, money was the lifeline of crime syndicates. And these young, beautiful people had nothing but time and money on their hands. How they had met was unclear, but Tenten started doing more research online, dodging the larger issue of Nagayama and Watanabe – their positions within the group were already clear.

Shinji had, as Yuichi had said, come from a wealthy family who owned a hotel chain. There wasn't a lot of information on the man himself, but his father apparently had a violent streak and there were rumours behind the revolving-door nature of his personal staff. But this was all she got from local, small time news channels. The Okuchi family weren't big fish.

Tenten sighed and rubbed her eyes. Next on the list was Hyuuga Hitomi. Surprisingly, there was a lot of information about her, but not many interviews, and absolutely nothing personal. She had her own fashion label, Hi Tomi, and her clothes were worn not only by her friends and family but celebrities and the fashion elite. She had only two stores, one in Sendai and the other in Tokyo. Most of her designs came in limited sizes and were incredibly limited in quality.

"Which explains the extortionate prices," Tenten mumbled to herself. She felt vaguely humbled to have been able to wear a dress earlier in the year, only to have it covered in blood and grey matter after a couple of hours. Hitomi had made a name for herself when Michiru had arrived at a premiere for one of her popular films wearing a Hi Tomi gown a few years ago.

The Hyuuga didn't celebrate her birthday, but the anniversary of the launch of her first collection. As for her private life, she was notoriously silent and many a reporter who had made speculative comments about her had found themselves writing nothing but horoscopes and pieces about local cat shows for the rest of their career. In short, Hyuuga Hitomi ruled Sendai's press circles with an iron fist, although no one was quite sure how.

Kazuya was from a family of jewellers, but they came from old money. They had mines across the globe. Tenten didn't know the inner workings of all the international organised crime syndicates, but it was clear that there was a possibility Kazuya could have come into contact with some shady characters. His personal history seemed to explain a lot about his frivolous nature; his parents had divorced when he was seven, and his father's family had insisted upon the child remaining with them, as he would succeed his father. His father's debauchery had been legendary; Kazuya had several half brothers and sisters who had never been legitimised and so he remained the sole heir to his family's empire. With such a male role model, and mistresses stopping by every week to give him gifts, kisses, or a withering, cold glare, by the time he had reached adulthood, he was on a first name basis with many cabaret club owners.

She wondered for a moment what he was really like behind the eager puppy on the chase facade, but she dismissed the thought. She knew full well he would be callous, cool and uncaring. He was a man who was a much better friend than lover.

As for the last member of their group, Yori Daichi... Tenten's heart stopped.

"No way," she whispered, staring at the screen. She zoomed in on his face, but it was unmistakeable. She had thought he seemed familiar when scanning through Shinji's photos but had disregarded it; she knew how much people could change as adults. But she knew that smile so well, and the way his hair fell across his eyes.

He hadn't changed a bit.

Tenten continued searching on the internet, a smile tugging at her lips. A part of her had wondered, on very rare occasions, what had happened to her best friend at the orphanage. He had been adopted by the Yori family and had lived a relatively normal life. He had attended a prestigious school in Sendai which had been run for generations by... the Sugiyama family. Her heart skipped another beat.

She opened another search window and linked each of the names with that particular academy. Even Michiru who at first glance, seemed like the average Tokyo-ite, was from Sendai. When her schedule allowed, she would return to spend time with her family and boyfriend.

After pausing a moment, she looked up Sugiyama Takeshi. There were a few old articles about him; mostly from around ten years ago. He had been as notorious as Nagayama, getting into fights and occasionally hospital. Then, there was a picture of him at Mamoru.

Sighing, she knew what she had to do. From the moment she had set eyes on Shinji, she had known it was necessary. Ask for a partner.

* * *

December 14, 15:43. Mitsukoshi Department Store, Aoba, Sendai.

Her monthly rendezvous with her handler, this time at a department store, was a more hassled affair than usual. Of course, with the Christmas preparations, no one noticed that they were so close together. Tenten had prepared her information, carrying a boutique bag with her into the store. She set it down in a quiet corner, and drifted away, knowing not to look back; her handler would be following her closely. After fifteen minutes of browsing (who said she couldn't do useful things while she was here?), Tenten bought some presents for Yuichi, Neko and, after a moment's hesitation, Suzune. Satisfied, she made her way to the foodcourt and bought a hot chocolate in a busy cafe, casually slinging her scarf on the back of a chair at the table next to hers. It was still odd thinking about Christmases in Tokyo, especially at Konoha. Most companies had Christmas parties, spy agencies included. After all, without trust, you could hardly entrust your life to your colleagues.

Still, Team Gai had always managed to exchange a present of some sort to each of their members... Some of them less appropriate to open as a team than others. Tenten felt her colour rise as she thought of one occasion-

The scrape of the chair at her back snapped her out of her reverie. There was the sound of a bag being set down on the floor and the ruffling of book pages.

"I've read your file," her handler sighed. After a pause, he turned the page of his book. Tenten leaned forward and picked up her mug and brought it to her lips.

"And?" She hated how expectant she sounded. Almost entitled.

"It's a good proposal. We will select a partner based on the required qualities."

The hot chocolate tasted bland, but she wasn't sure if it was because hot chocolate was the last thing on her mind right now. She knew she had no power to ask for a person to help her, so she remained silent on the topic. Instead, she said, "I have a problem."

Her handler sighed and put his book on the table.

"Has your cover been compromised? You know the correct protocols for this, I shouldn't have to tell you."

"No, there is a potential threat to my cover," she said slowly.

Silence. She took this as a cue to continue, licking her lips.

"Yori Daichi is someone I grew up with before I became affiliated with the company," Tenten explained. "Another orphan. There's a chance he may not recognise me, but ... I'm not certain."

"Give me numbers, Dragon," he said tersely.

"I'd say a 45% chance he doesn't recognise me."

"On what basis? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

It was true; she had only remembered Daichi after she had read his name and then had it affirmed by the colour of his hair. It was possible he would not recognise her.

"This is an operation you have been part of for a very long time. If you really wish to be pulled from it, that can be arranged. But is that what you really want?"

She sighed. "If my cover is compromised, it could blow the whole operation."

"Only if they are related to _her_. If there is no connection, then you will have risked your cover in vain."

"I will find something," she said, taking another sip of her drink.

"The funny thing about grasping at straw," her handler said finally, "is that sooner or later, you'll fall. Do not let desperation delude you." He paused, and finally murmured. "You have gifts from your team mates."

He stood up and walked away, leaving his book on the table and the bag on the floor. Tenten waited ten agonising minutes before reaching for the things he had left behind.

The gift bag was silver, with a grey dragon print and white silk ribbon. Tenten smiled. She would have thought they'd pick a green one. Surprisingly, there were four things inside; two boxes, wrapped in green, a black box and an envelope containing what she thought was a card. She reached for a green box first. It was surprisingly heavy for its size. Her eyes narrowed. Were they weapons? She opened it cautiously, finding no clues beneath the wrapping paper - only a blank box awaited. Tenten refrained from sighing. She opened the box, peering in, and let out the breath she'd been holding - the box contained a beautiful, if not somewhat useless, glass paperweight. Tenten placed the box back in the bag, folding up the used wrapping paper carefully. The second green box was just as heavy, and she opened it just as carefully as the first, and found herself staring at a smooth, leather case, with a keyhole. Her jaw almost dropped. It was a standard issue, Konoha weapons case.

The black box could only be from Sasuke. Tenten traced her finger over the cardboard. It was slightly rough, like linen. She opened the box and found a bottle of perfume in nestled in a crepe paper nest, a key on a leather strap wrapped around the neck of the bottle she that would match the lock in the box.

Finally, she turned her attention to the card, written in his bold handwriting in French.

_Things are going well here. Hope you're happy. UJ has been asking about you. Merry Christmas. Dad misses you, may visit soon. S._

It was slightly uninspired, but nonetheless a bit touching. UJ, which stood for a fictional, 'Uncle James', was a reference to Tsunade. After the incident with Suzune triggering the safehouse lockdown mechanism, things were probably a bit rocky back at headquarters. Still, if they jumped every time someone came in contact with a former Konoha agent, they would have disappeared as an agency a few decades ago. This line of work was not for the faint of heart.

Tenten could imagine Sasuke sitting at his desk for some time, or even in the van on the way to some vantage point, deciding whether or not to add that last line. Contact with undercover agents was beyond going against regulations. He didn't mean it, but it was the thought that counted. Or was it? She had been sending more reports to the team working on the Lucia case since the start of her mission. It wasn't unlikely that Shikamaru and Sasuke had already figured out what she would need further along down the line.

He had sent her off at Tokyo station only a few months ago, refusing to say 'goodbye'. Her heart began to pound and she forced herself to calm down, which she was barely able to do as she ran her fingers over the black weapons case. _Breathe_. Hesitantly, and wondering if she was secretly a masochist, she opened the bottle of perfume and sprayed some on to her right wrist, and was, in an instant, taken back to her days as an intern, of long summer days and stolen glimpses of Sasuke – the scent of apples lingered about her, twined with the fragrance of vanilla and jasmine. Tenten sighed, and closed the bottle. It was, she took it, a sign that he still had feelings for her. Feelings that, to be honest, she didn't want to face. Not just yet.

But if he ended up being picked as her partner, then what?

She packed the gifts back into the bag, wrapping paper and all, and stood up, retrieving her scarf from the other chair. Looking over at the book, she lifted the front cover to reveal the title, "Fifty Shades of Icha Icha". She scoffed. Jiraiya and Kakashi both were probably getting pretty desperate if these were the things they had to resort to

Handwritten underneath the title, in Kakashi's writing, was, "Merry Christmas, T. I hope you enjoy in more ways than one." Perverted bastard. Nevertheless, Tenten grinned as she picked up the book and put it in her bag along with the other gifts.

* * *

"She's doing well," Kakashi said, leaning back against his chair and stretching. He cursed his own forgetfulness in leaving his jacket behind at the office, and was firmly reminded by Shizune to get his paperwork done after a chance encounter in the corridor. "In case you were wondering."

"I'm not," the man sitting three desks away from him. No one else was around at this time, most likely working different cases.

"So how's that girl you're supposedly dating?" Kakashi asked, an eye drifting over to his former student.

"She's doing well," Sasuke echoed his former teacher, and refrained from sighing as he tried to evade the topic. Things could get more awkward, though.

"How far have you gone with her?"

There it was.

"Unfortunately for you, it's nothing to rival your books, Sens-" He stopped himself, and looked away.

Kakashi let it slide.

"Have you talked with Sakura-chan lately?"

"She seems busy enough without me." _With that pasty, tattooed idiot she met on her rotation_, he thought. He was surprised by how bitter he sounded, even in his own head.

"It was good having her back in the field for a while," Kakashi said. "Kind of like old times …"

Sasuke stood, hastily, gathering his papers into a pile and locked them in the drawer on the side of his desk. He didn't like where this conversation was going – usually it ended with some kind of remark about Naruto, and Sasuke would, inexplicably, get a call from the man himself. He scoffed. Thinking about Naruto as a 'man' was still a bit strange. When had they stopped being 'boys'? After the first mission? The first kill? After vengeance?

He stopped himself from continuing his train of thought. "Good night, Kakashi."

Kakashi swivelled his chair to watch him pack his things into his bag. His visible eye was hooded in thought, dark and unreadable. "Good night, Sasuke-kun."

As he was walking through the car park a few minutes later, Sasuke sighed as his phone rang. "What is it, _dobe_, did Kakashi put you up to this?" He growled into the phone.

Silence.

"Well, that wasn't the greeting I was expecting." The caller said, archly.

Sasuke froze. It had been a while since he'd heard that voice. Not as long as he'd like, especially since he had ranked them on a scale starting from 'maybe in the next year' to 'maybe in the next life'. This person weighed in on the heavier side. "How did you get this number?"

"Things aren't that hard for me, surely you'd understand that." A smirk.

He refrained from groaning in frustration. "What do you want?"

"To talk," the man said. "Next week some time. We have some matters of mutual interest to discuss."

It was Sasuke's turn to smirk. Who did he think he was? Some cheap action movie villain? "Unluckily for you, I haven't the slightest idea what you're saying. You might have to be a bit more specific."

"Don't play cute with me, Uchiha. You _know_ who I'm talking about."

"And you know you're not part of this world any more," Sasuke said curtly, without missing a beat. "I don't have time to deal with your issues, and you could even say I don't actually care. We have nothing to talk about. Don't contact me again."

Sasuke hung up the phone, feeling satisfied with himself. It was about time things started getting interesting.


	14. Idle Threats

**A/N: **Hello, hello! It's been a while! Fandom's gotten a bit quiet lately... well, I'm slowly writing, and I guess that's the point of the exercise. Drop me a line if you're reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Twelve – Idle Threats _

Neji was, word had it, infuriated. His most recent fling had fled to a newspaper after the Hyuuga had pursued her relentlessly for a week, only to become completely disinterested after they slept together. Well, she hadn't mentioned that last part; she had only said, after weekend trip to Kyoto, he had stopped calling and texting her altogether after getting a taxi to drop her home separately from the station.

"That's what I call sub-zero," Hanabi said dryly, after reading the story aloud.

"Put that trash away and come practice," Neji snapped. Hanabi didn't flinch, but only flashed him a feline grin and joined him, Hinata and Naruto at the table, where they were assembling and disassembling a range of firearms. A standard Tuesday night for three ex-Konoha operatives and a trainee.

"So?" Naruto said, sneaking a look at his girlfriend's cousin. "How was she?"

Neji was silent, and reached for his stopwatch. He paused for a moment to check the time.

"I get you don't want to talk about it," Naruto pressed, "but this girl is seriously hot! She almost became one of the Victoria's Secret Angels! Are you out of your mind?"

"You must be out of yours," Hanabi chuckled, watching as her sister calmly disassembled her pistol. "If you're talking about another woman next to my sister while she's holding a gun."

"Oh come on, if it was me, I would have -"

He fell silent, his tongue thoroughly tied, as Hinata assembled the gun with efficiency and speed, and had it held up to his temple before he could even finish his sentence. Naruto licked his lips and cleared his throat.

"Please consider the definite possibility that I am able to find someone hot enough to put you to shame, also, Naruto-kun." Hinata said.

"You didn't load any bullets into that," Neji said dryly.

"I don't make idle threats," Hinata said quietly, releasing the safety catch. "But consider carefully how you finish that next sentence." You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, and Naruto cleared his throat.

"If it was me, I would have been a perfect gentleman and showed her around and ... Booked two rooms at the hotel."

Hinata, her face expressionless, lowered the gun. Hanabi chuckled. "Naruto, you're too whipped for your own good. Don't you agree, Neji-nii?"

She turned to look at her cousin, but he had disappeared in the distraction to answer a call, his brow furrowed.

"Hey, it's me."

Neji checked his watch. "You're working late, Sadako."

"Thanks to a certain someone, yes." She was clearly exasperated, and he could imagine her sitting her office, the lights turned down. "Can we talk? Where are you now?"

"At Hinata's place," he said, turning back to look at the trio. No shots had been fired for the day, and they were packing assembled, unloaded guns back into foam lined aluminium cases.

"Oh, I know." Sadako replied, a touch of smugness in her voice. There was a knock at the door and Hanabi shouted, "It's open, Sakko-nee!"

Sadako entered the room and Neji hung up, resisting an eye roll. She was always trying to show him up.

"Evening, Sakko!" Naruto said cheerily, raising a hand. "Want a beer?"

Sadako took off her shoes and walked over to the table, and sat down where Neji had been seated a few moments earlier, without even acknowledging his presence.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Hinata," Sadako smiled. "And yeah, Naruto, that would be perfect right now."

He got up and walked over to the fridge, and stopped to drag Hanabi with him, giving them a small measure of privacy. Hinata looked over at Neji, and he sighed before joining them at the table again.

"Is this an intervention?" Neji asked.

"Oh, shoot, we're out of beer!" Naruto called from the kitchen, sounding as surprised as someone who turned around to find out the source of a meowing sound was, in fact, a cat. "I guess we'll just go to the convenience store to get some."

"We?" Hanabi echoed.

"Yup," Naruto said cheerily, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her out of the room. "I'll get you that ... Hogan Deer ice cream you like."

Hanabi arched an eyebrow. "How were you ever a spy? I don't get that."

Naruto turned and shot Hinata a thumbs up before they left the apartment, and a heavy silence settled in the space they had occupied.

"Why yes, it is an intervention," Sadako said archly, crossing her arms. "Why do you insist on doing these things to me?"

"It's not just Sakko, Neji-nii,"Hinata said. "It affects all of us. Otou-san, Hanabi, and -"

"The company?" Neji finished for her. "I get it. I can't be on the board or a part of management if I'm irresponsible."

"It's more than that, Neji-nii." Hinata said. "Basically -"

"You're damaging our brand," Sadako said for her. "After this last incident, there have been rumours going around that you don't 'fit' the company. The investors are getting uneasy that clients of certain principles are unsettled."

Neji paused for a moment to consider this. "My personal life has nothing to do with the Hyuuga brand. I'm pretty sure that guy who works the switchboard is part of a kinky-"

"Hiashi-sama begs to differ," Sadako said, interrupting him and refusing the rise to the bait. "I'm starting to wonder if you really understand what I'm saying. Have I been speaking a language you don't understand?" Sadako asked, her voice rising. "Be honest. Just what are you thinking?"

Neji felt his temper flare as he muttered darkly, "Maybe you're the one who doesn't understand."

Sadako found herself, once again, speechless. Hinata picked up the pieces of the conversation in the silence that followed, without even missing a beat.

"Do you really mean that?" she asked, her eyes serious. "Would you give up everything you've gained over the past few years to be with her, only in the shadows? We've all made sacrifices, you know that."

Neji, Hinata and Naruto had all given up their anonymity to take their place in the world of socialites and business associates. Neji would never have been able to convince Tenten to leave the shadows and secrets she'd known so well. Hinata had been lucky enough to have Naruto by her side the whole way - but the fortunate were few and far between. Spy couples rarely lasted, largely due to circumstances beyond their control, putting an ironic spin on the vow, "until death do us part".

Neji looked away. He had asked himself that many times over since leaving Konoha. Their relationship had not been one of fairy tales and even now, well, it was all but lost, perhaps. If anything, she had been his knight in shining armour, not that he had ever been able to tell her. She had kept him sane, somehow, anchored to some part of the real world that was beyond his reach, but Naruto was still the one who had shaken his cage enough to let him see the door was easily opened.

Nonetheless, he was not naive enough to believe that he would give up everything, especially in the name of something like love. Despite his current situation, it was probably even more of a reason not to want to change things. Hinata knew him well enough to know what that gesture meant.

"Why are you jeopardising this life you managed to build?" Hinata asked.

The moment of truth.

Neji looked her in the eye and said, as if it was the most natural response in the world, "Because I can."

The shock of both women was palpable. Hinata looked visibly upset and she stood and left the table, walking briskly to her room and shutting her door.

"I can't believe you, of all people would just -"

"Save it Sadako, it's not going to make much of a difference now," Neji said quietly, feeling a pang of guilt. They had asked him to be honest, but perhaps this was going a bit too far. They were saved from further, painstaking exchanges of all but meaningless words as his phone rang. The caller's name glided down the silver display bar, and Neji sighed.

"I have to take this."

He stood and flipped the phone open, and returned to the window. His reflection, hollow eyed, stared back at him as city lights pierced his mirror image.

"Hello?"

"It's Hiashi. We need to talk."

* * *

18:46 December 20, Sendai.

"We need to talk," Suzune said, sitting down opposite Tenten. They hadn't opened the cafe today; it was their one day off before the Christmas rush.

A waitress came around with still-warm towels and they ordered beer. The izakaya was already busy with nearby office workers drinking to a good Christmas (aka second Valentines' Day) and an even better new year. Ordinary employees drank with their superiors and talked freely without fear of punishment - that was what alcohol was for. Not that they'd speak about it the next day or, indeed, when the next work day rolled around after the weekend. Whether or not it was remembered was another issue altogether.

Tenten sat back and crossed her arms.

"I'm listening."

Suzune arched an eyebrow. "I'm not going to ask why you're here," she said. "Everything you're doing is confidential and I get that. It's protocol."

"Then what's the issue?"

They had somehow managed to keep up some semblance of normalcy over the past few weeks, without burning coffee or milk. Yuichi figured something had happened but he didn't ask any questions, and Tenten had asked Takeshi to meet her out in the boulevard, not swing by Maru to pick her up.

Suzune couldn't meet her eyes.

"It's to do with Takeshi, isn't it?"

This was no surprise. Tenten wasn't an idiot - she knew Takeshi still had residual feelings for the former spy, even though they had never broached the subject. She supposed it was just one of those 'first love' type situations. Or, for Takeshi - first of many loves?

They fell silent as the waitress returned with the beer, and they ordered a plate of fries and tomatoes with salt. Suzune all but hid behind the huge cup when the waitress retreated, raising the glass without a word and drinking to a silent toast. Tenten made her own, to remind herself for the hundred and first time why she was there. To courage, and … Lucia.

"You're not seriously going to tell me … that if I hurt him, you'll come after me?"

"You're using him!" Suzune said, her eyes flashing. "You see him only as an informant - I know what happens to him when you're done with him!"

Today, Tenten was going to be ruthless - just like she had been taught to. Too many men had showed her just how easy it was.

"What if I'm not using him, as you put it? What if he's the one using the sweet, innocent Miyako?" Tenten said. It struck a chord, and Suzune opened her mouth to protest. "Are you sure you want to argue with me on that? He told me what he did to you, all those years ago."

Suzune went red, and looked away again. Tenten took another gulp of beer.

"I'm kidding, since you're right when you say I see him as an informant, as you put it," she said breezily, smiling. A part of her cringed. "But I can't believe you really confessed to him like that, and expected him to return your feelings. After all, you were only that cute, little, Suzu-chan who had followed him around like a kid sister ever since you were three, your nose running and your hair wild."

Their eyes met and Tenten smiled with satisfaction to see Suzune's eyes blazing with something close to hatred.

"Come on, you said you wanted to talk," Tenten said lightly. "Say something, I can't bear to do all of the talking."

"You're the lowest of the low. You have no idea what it was like. You know nothing about me, or the things I've done, the people I've lost …" Suzune's grip tightened on the handle of her mug. "When I was your age, Takeshi was the last thing on my mind."

The brunette tilted her head to the side. "Enlighten me, then."

"Scum like you don't deserve to know anything," Suzune hissed. "Consider yourself fired. I'll give you the rest of the day to get your things out of my house." She took a one thousand yen note from her pocket and left it on the table, her beer all but untouched. "And if you do hurt Takeshi, trust me; I will come knocking on your door."

"What will you tell him if he asks?" Tenten asked. "I'm only curious – this entire affair will make everyone think you're jealous."

"Let them think what they will," Suzune replied stonily. "Consider your cover safe with me. As much as I don't like you, I know that lives have been placed in your hands. I only hope that you're talented enough to keep them there."

Without a farewell, she turned on her heel and walked out of the izakaya, vanishing into the crowds hurrying past outside. Tenten sighed and took a few more sips of beer before the waitress arrived with their order, blinking in confusion when she saw the note on the table.

"Something came up," Tenten said, by way of explanation. "That will be all for now."

The waitress nodded and left to answer the (repeated) summons of the other group. Most of the men had loosened their ties and unbuttoned their shirts, and casting looks at Tenten that could be considered sexual harassment in other countries. She rolled her eyes and took out her phone. She took a deep breath and thought about calling someone else, but in this case, it was the only thing she could do as Miyako, and it was something she'd never done before. Call her boyfriend.

An hour later, Tenten packed up her things in her suitcase, weapons tucked safely in a false compartment. She left a paper gift bag on the floor in the middle of the room, containing the gifts she had bought for Suzune, Yuichi and Neko.

* * *

20:39 December 20, Sendai, Takeshi's place.

Tenten knocked on the door for the last time, and Takeshi opened it with a smile. "Welcome home," his smile widening into a grin. Ah, the cliché of clichés. But somehow, it was still her first time doing this.

"I'm back."

Neji sat in the waiting room outside Hiashi's office, inspecting his cufflinks. They were a bit scuffed – how had that happened in the first place? – but they weren't easily replaced. They had been a farewell gift he'd received years ago, after all, from –

"Mr Hiashi will see you now," the secretary's voice broke him out of his reverie. She was a Hyuuga, just like he was, but she had spent five years in Australia and had returned, speaking perfect English. Hiashi had decided, in order to be more international, his secretary would speak English. Somehow, this secretary always spoke English to him, but never Hinata or Hanabi.

Neji muttered a few choice curses under his breath in French, and walked in through the double doors.

"Ah, Neji-kun. Good afternoon."

Hiashi was rarely this pleasant.

Neji bowed. "Good afternoon, Hiashi-sama." He moved over to the desk and sat down in front of it. The secretary came in with two glasses of water and two lattes at perfect temperature. Neji wondered if she did this every time Hiashi had a meeting; it was a wonder his uncle could sit so still. Moreover, how did one prepare coffee so quickly?

They sat in silence until the secretary left the room and Neji took a few sips of his coffee. He wondered, not for the first time, if this woman had been hired for her coffee making skills.

"So," Hiashi began, laying his hands flat on the desk, one crossed lightly over the other. "I take it you understand what this means."

Neji nodded. He had seen it coming for a while.

"To be honest," his uncle continued, "I don't quite know what to think. You, using our name like this."

Neji shrugged. "I'm not sorry."

They both paused to take a sip of their drinks.

"Well, I've decided as your punishment, I'm sending you away from Tokyo."

Neji arched an eyebrow. "That's rather old fashioned of you."

"Don't try playing the cute card with me, that stopped working when Hinata started dating Naruto."

Well, at least he could say his name without breaking something these days, Neji thought with amusement as he took another sip of coffee. He wished this would be over and done with soon.

"What about Hanabi?" Neji asked, biting back a smirk. Cold silence from his uncle suggested that topic was off limits, even for him. "So," he said, when another sufficiently awkward silence had passed. Perhaps it was about three minutes and two seconds. Not that anyone was counting. "Where will it be? Hakodate? Kagoshima?"

"I'm sending you to live with Haruka's daughter."

Neji froze, his cup raised in midair. "What?"

"Yes, I think that settled it." Hiashi's expression almost matched his voice, and there was a ghost of a smile that tugged at his lips.

"Hiashi-sama, I really don't think that's a –"

"You are not an expert on what constitutes a wise or unwise idea, Neji," Hiashi said, interrupting him. "And I do believe that, being your former fiancée, she may have an interest in seeing what kind of bullet she dodged."

Neji fought every instinct in his body not to shudder. To say that this entire affair was unholy and awkward would be an understatement of unspeakable proportions. The reminder of the arranged marriage, and also the current state of his love life coming straight from his uncle was almost too much to bear.

"Well I think that should do it, then." Hiashi said, turning to his computer and typing a few things. He turned his attention back to his nephew, who was looking a little too eager to impress, as always.

"How is Aunt Haruka, anyway?" Neji asked. "I haven't heard from her in…"

"Probably six years now," Hiashi finished for him. "She's good. As good as one can be, in prison."

They grew sombre, very quickly. It wasn't something anyone liked to discuss, not in their right mind. "In case you're wondering," Hiashi continued, with effort, "her daughter is doing exceedingly well in escaping her mother's shadow."

"I figured that one pretty quickly, uncle," Neji said. "She's incredibly successful in her own right."

"And she's made a name for herself without the company behind her."

"Or the fortune, you mean."

Another awkward silence.

"Well, that was the crux of the matter, that time," Hiashi said quietly. "We cannot change inheritance rules so quickly here."

"As I am painfully aware," Neji replied, and they fell into a pensive silence for some time. Hiashi wondered what his brother would think of his son now. Would he be sad? Happy? Proud, even? Hizashi had never been one for women or playing games, such levity had always been frowned upon, and not for people like the heirs of multi-million dollar corporations, and their bodyguards, both physically and financially. "When do I leave?" he asked, granting them both a much needed respite.

"Tomorrow. Make sure you pack a suit, I believe you'll be going to a black tie party of some sort."

"I wouldn't expect anything less for my welcome," Neji said sarcastically.

"Unfortunately it's not in your honour, but the head of a school that produces particularly influential people," Hiashi corrected him, unfazed. "She sent the key to her apartment in advance, and the concierge will be expecting your arrival by shinkansen." For the first time that day, Hiashi looked up and met his eyes with a serious expression on his face. This was not a game, not to anyone in this room, despite their light heartedness earlier. "I hope you realise the gravity of your situation, Neji. This is not a punishment, it's a second chance."

"I know," Neji said softly. "I'm honoured."

"Be on time, and try get there a bit earlier to get to know your cousin more."

"I wonder how much more she'll know about me just by looking at me," Neji muttered, before downing the last of his coffee. "She always put me on edge."

"You met her once when you were children," Hiashi said dismissively. "She's just good at guessing."

"And I'm just good at aiming at people with a gun," Neji replied. "I was a trained assassin and spy, uncle! My mother came to an agreement with your crazy cousin because her daughter has that great knack for guessing games, as you so lightly put it, and you're sending me to live with her?"

"Yes." Hiashi said simply. "I hope you enjoy spending time with her, maybe she can teach you something you'd benefit from."

"I find that highly unlikely, I –"

He cut himself off as the phone on Hiashi's desk started to ring. He answered, and his secretary informed him that his next appointment, a reporter from a magazine, had arrived.

At this, Neji visibly tensed, and Hiashi waved him away. "You may go now," he said, as the reporter was ushered into the room, following the click of the secretary's heels like an eager puppy. Neji shot the balding man a withering look as he stood and left the room.

"This is unbelievable! I will make sure you regret this!" He shouted, feeling uncharacteristically petulant. He turned around and saw the three of them watching him with three different expressions – curiosity, hunger and bemusement. Hiashi's lips quirked upwards in a rare smile, which fell quickly as Neji slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

Sadako was in a company-paid lunch meeting when her phone started ringing. She saw the name and excused herself, not that anyone noticed. She was a small fish in this pond. In the corridor, she answered the phone with a fairly hostile, "What?"

"I seem to be getting that a lot, lately," Neji said, feigning thoughtfulness.

"I wonder why," Sadako said sarcastically. "You have a talent for getting on people's bad sides."

"About that …"

"Don't you dare apologise, I'm not ready for it," she said harshly. "I won't take that kind of apology over the phone, I'll kill you."

"I know," Neji said, appearing at the end of the corridor. He hung up and slipped his phone into his pocket. "That's why I'm here."

Sadako sighed. "This better be good, Neji."

They walked into an empty conference room and Neji explained what had transpired earlier that morning in Hiashi's office. At the end of his story, she rolled her eyes, and sighed before standing and giving him a hug that almost made his ribs crack.

"Ow," Neji said, if only to let her know.

"You deserve that," she muttered, letting him go. "I can't believe this day has finally come, even though you've been so horrible to me over the past few months."

"Consider it a Christmas gift," Neji said, his eyes warm as a smile broke across his face. "A nice, long break from having to deal with me."

"Don't say it like that," Sadako said, growing a bit misty eyed. "It sounds so … ominous, like you won't come back at all. I don't like goodbyes, but I guess this will have to do."

Neji pulled her in for another hug and pat her on top of her head. "Get back to that meeting, Sakko," he said, calling her by her childhood nickname – one he had given her, a long time ago. "I want to see the world at your feet by the time I get back."

"You can't tell me what to do," she said, her voice muffled.

"I can hope."

"As we all do, with Hanabi," Sadako sighed, drawing a chuckle from Neji.

"She'll come around." He pulled away, and looked down at her for some time.

"This feels weird," Sadako said. It was true – she'd spent so long over the past few months stressing over him and having that stress break out in incredibly violent outbursts of swear words and hostile thoughts, mainly in his direction. "Let's get out of here, before someone sees us."

They left the conference room, looking slightly more composed, knowing this was how they would part ways. She turned back to look at him, still standing by the door, and raised a hand.

"Neji?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

He nodded, and smiled again. "Thanks, Sakko." As she entered the meeting room again, Neji turned and headed back towards the elevator. _I'll need it_, he thought grimly. _Not everyone forgives as easily as Sadako does_.

* * *

Sasuke sat down heavily at the bar, and waved the bartender over before ordering scotch on the rocks. He hadn't expected this to happen, of all things.

The bartender returned within a few moments, and Sasuke took a moment to admire the hard, clear ice within the glass before taking a generous sip. Someone approached him from his left side and sat down, took a brief look in his direction and ordered the same thing.

They sat, drinking in a tense silence, neither willing to buckle. Finally, one spoke.

"Prodigy?"

"Shut it, Hyuuga, let me drink in peace." Sasuke slammed the glass down on the bar a little harder than intended, and ordered another. He finally turned to look at the former spy. "What are you even doing here?"

"I told you I wanted to talk, and you made things difficult so I called in a favour... much to my displeasure." Neji said sourly. Sasuke wondered what the Hyuuga would have done for Ino, for her to 'owe' him one. The blonde had said she'd meet him in the bar for a couple of drinks, about six minutes from now. She'd known he would be early, and set this up. In the silence, the bartender returned and swapped Sasuke's glass for another.

"Lucky me," he replied sarcastically. "So what brings the great Hyuuga Neji into the presence of a humble person like Uchiha Sasuke?"

"If you think," Neji said calmly, "I don't know anything about what you've been trying to do, you're more of an idiot than I thought you could be. You think you're being arrogant but all I see," he paused to look at Sasuke again. "Is a lonely fool."

"And you're classless trash who apparently can't keep it in his pants," Sasuke retorted. "Or so you'd like everyone to think. Do you really have trouble getting it up, as they say?"

Neji rolled his eyes, set down his empty glass and ordered a gin tonic. He smirked. "You know," he said. "Maybe I was wrong about you, and all you want to do is make it look like you're interested in her. All those years of being trained by Ochimaru…"

"A big call for a guy who's spent his whole life under his uncle's thumb," Sasuke said, without skipping a beat.

"As opposed to the guy whose first kiss was a certain Uzumaki?"

"Your hair is clearly the envy of every woman in this room."

"What even made you notice?"

"I'm a secret agent and assassin, you idiot, it's the same thing that makes you notice stupid shit about how the woman sitting a few seats down can't stop looking over." In their state, they had somehow slipped into other languages – this last statement from Sasuke in Russian. Neji raised his eyebrows and looked down at his coaster, suddenly regretting downing everything.

"Your accent's not too bad," he replied, in the same language.

Silence fell. This was good, they'd pretty much called in every insult they could and now there was nothing else to say. It was childish, and not befitting men of their profession, but somehow, it worked, and suddenly neither was afraid to say what was necessary – not of old wounds and rumours, but new ones.

"She's not yours," Neji said, after the bartender came back to them and gave him his drink.

"I could say the same to you," Sasuke replied calmly. "Who are you talking about, anyway?"

"Don't play games with me."

"It takes two to play, and you sat down after me," Sasuke sighed. "Tenten is free to be with who she wants."

"She was with _me_, before she-"

"Before you sold her picture to those wolves and made sure she could never come back to Tokyo," Sasuke finished. "Not because of that photo, but because of what _you_ did. Even if she makes it out of that cover alive, there's no way she's coming back here. Every woman she sees will remind her of you, and she's not even going to want to look at you, let alone have you _claim_ her like another of your whores."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, you idiot, I'm _telling_ you," Sasuke said, raising his voice. The music was loud enough to cover their conversation, but those around gave them a few dirty glances before looking away.

Neji rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What's in this for you, then?" He took a few sips of his gin tonic and waited. When no response came, he looked over. "Because the way I see this is, you have feelings for her – and that's understandable, there's nothing wrong with that. But there's one flaw with this scenario and it's that you're always going to be on the losing side. She's always going to be thinking, somewhere in the back of her mind, that you are just a replacement for someone whose shadow you'll never escape. Not even in your own head."

He stood and reached for his wallet to settle his bill. "Listen, just do yourself a favour, and walk away. She's never going to see you like that." The bartender came over, and Neji told him to cover Sasuke's drinks as well, creating a mini bar tab. He turned to see Sasuke, his elbows on the bar as words turned over in his mind, chin resting on crossed hands. From the corner of his eye, he saw Neji watching him and, guiltily, the perfect comeback came to him.

"She kissed me back."

Neji's hand faltered, and he dropped his wallet. He bent over to pick it up and tucked it into his jacket, taking some time to readjust himself. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Uchiha," he said finally, turning on his heel and leaving the way he had come in.


	15. Big Expectations

Good evening! Here's a mid-week update! Every chapter since chapter 8 has exceeded 4000 words, but I figure with a long wait between updates, it might be worth having something with a bit of a bite to it XDD Let me know what you think; drop me a line at the end of the chapter.

As always, enjoy!

**Syndicate**

By Tanya Lilac

_Chapter Thirteen – Big Expectations_

December 23, 12:34. The Sugimura house, Taiwa, Miyagi Prefecture.

They called up a taxi to take them out to the Sugimura estate; a large, European mansion well outside the city with enough space to accommodate a garden, a pool and a thirty car garage - Sugimura Jiro was a proud collector of vintage sports cars.

Takeshi was the youngest and mostly overlooked son of the Sugimura family. He had been spoiled, perhaps a bit too much, as a child, almost as much as the firstborn, Jun, who was now in his early forties. Jun was one of the great prides of his father (after, of course, his twenty seven sports cars) and had grown up to be a corporate lawyer in Tokyo with a family of four - both of his children, to his infinite disappointment, were girls.

The second child in the family, Ken, had taken a different path and ended up becoming a doctor. He had also moved to Tokyo and, after a nervous breakdown in his mid 30s, had opened a family clinic in the quieter suburbs of Koto-ku. He had one daughter who was the apple of his eye; at just under the age of six and a half, she lived for trips to Disneyland (it took only half an hour, door to door, after all).

The middle child, Shizuka, had grown up to be just that - a quiet and serious, but sweet daughter. Her husband Kenji, a talented and successful prosecutor, had married into the Sugimura family upon Jiro's orders, but had gained an invaluable network of clients and contacts, and a few years later, the financial backing he needed to start his own firm. He was cut from the same cloth as Jiro himself; more of a shadow of his adopted father than his adopted brothers.

Her younger brother, and Takeshi's immediate older brother by only three years, Hiroshi, was the latter's bitter rival since his birth. It was largely one sided but he made a habit of rubbing in every success in Takeshi's face. Being an accountant provided few opportunities for that, but it meant he spent more time savouring these petty victories. He had married long ago, at the age of twenty four, his college sweetheart; an intelligent and pretty woman he had met in a particularly gruelling accounting subject. As far as Hiroshi was concerned, the story ended there and not with the fact his wife had graduated with first class honours in the course, naturally beating him in the process. To others, marrying his wife, Momoka, was his only success in life, something he appeared to be painfully aware of at times.

They had all arrived back at the family house all of two days ago, cousins already bullying each other and brothers comparing children's accomplishments to no end. Takeshi's arrival had been regarded with some relief and trepidation; it had been his first Christmas with the family in almost ten years, ever since the green pea salad incident. On this Takeshi was silent and refused to say any more on the subject, ever since accidentally mentioning it in the taxi. Miyako was unfazed – she would find out, sooner or later.

They walked into the house after a few tense seconds, waiting at the doorstep for someone to let them in. A young woman in a maid's uniform opened the door, curtseyed and took their coats, while summoning someone else to take their luggage.

The foyer was larger than it needed to be, in order to fit a double staircase. Wide organza ribbons twined up the banisters, wrapping around the handrail amidst leaves and fairy lights. The chandelier had been dusted and cleaned, and peeking into the other rooms the foyer led to, Miyako could see vases waiting for flowers and spaces cleared for dancers – there was a flurry of activity going on, last minute touches being put on decorations and staff trying to avoid children running in and out of supposedly off-limit areas.

"Your father's house is beautiful," Miyako said, wide eyed. "These decorations are amazing, like it's for a wedding or something."

"I didn't tell you?" Takeshi said suddenly, stopping and turning to her with a frown.

There was a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach.

"There's going to be a masquerade tomorrow night..." Takeshi said, feeling somewhat sheepish.

Her eyes widened. "You forgot to mention it, yes."

She had brought a couple of dresses with her, but nothing for a formal event. She hadn't counted on the Sugimura family being so pretentious. He smiled at her expression.

"I don't get what's so funny!" Miyako said, nudging him. They came to the staircase and Takeshi took his suitcase from the maid who had let them into the house, and she was torn despite her training. Takeshi insisted it was okay, and proceeded to bolt up the stairs with their bags, the maid clearly flustered as she all but chased after him. Miyako sighed, and followed them up the stairs with the butler who was carrying her bag. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Hyuuga Hitomi let herself into the Sugimura house, taking off her coat as she inspected the decorations with critical eyes. The house felt as it always did around this time of year; full of shifting moods and conflicting personalities. She didn't bother calling for a maid, and put her coat in the closet, noting two new additions.

She sensed she had been discovered, and turned to see a young girl of no more than six staring up at her, looking expectant. Ah, this child was always Hitomi's favourite. If Shizuka had daughters, perhaps she could have made dresses for them, too.

"Let me guess," Hitomi said, crouching down to try and match the girl's height. Even then, she was still a bit taller. "Princess Ariel? Oh, no..." She said, her smile growing as the girl frowned. "Aurora, this year? But which one? The blue one, or the pink one?" Hitomi shut her eyes, and frowned as if in concentration. "Pink."

Yumi, Ken's daughter, smiled gleefully. "Really?" She asked, breaking her silence.

"Always the best for a princess," Hitomi smiled, looking up as the maid returned from upstairs, apologising profusely.

"Shall I take your coat?" She asked, and then flushed upon realising the guest was not wearing one. The doorbell rang, and the maid rushed to open it, revealing a rather hassled looking Shinji. He had driven her up here, but had needed to smoke a cigarette or two before entering the house. Hitomi hadn't minded the silence, but the music Shinji listened to when he was in a foul mood left much to be desired.

He brushed the light scattering of snow off his shoulders and allowed the maid to take the garment bags from him before removing his coat. "Yumi-chan," Hitomi said, looking towards the girl once more, "Where's your grand mama?" She asked, referring to her as the child would - with a slightly European emphasis, as requested by the woman herself.

"I'll go fetch her now," the maid said, having hung up Shinji's coat.

"No need, Ayaka."

Hitomi stood, and looked up to the source of the voice - Sugimura Yuri - a woman of power in her own right, she had also come from a family of old money and was a distant relative of Hiroki's. Her bearing was imperious and her manners well below those expected of her, most times. Granted, she had been the best mother she could have been, between meetings with trustees and any number of charity balls and public appearances.

She came down the stairs slowly, taking the time to inspect the decorations. Hitomi could feel Shinji rolling his eyes; his family was new money; they didn't care as much about being ostentatious so long as people took them seriously. Personally, Hitomi thought the decorations were uninspiring, but then again, that was why she was here; to mix things up a bit.

"Hitomi, darling," she said, finally coming up to her and giving feather light kisses to the air by her cheeks.

"Always a pleasure, Yuri-san." Hitomi replied evenly, as Yuri cast a look at Shinji, and smiled graciously. "Shinji, you look more and more like your father every time I see you."

He laughed, suppressing a grimace as he gripped his hands tightly behind his back. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but I'll take it as one."

There was a short, awkward silence before Hitomi brought up the reason why she had come today - the delivery of the evening gowns. Shinji watched them carry the dresses upstairs, talking about a final fitting, and muttered to himself, "Well I guess I'll just wait in the car then."

Yumi laughed, and said, "You're weird." Shinji stared back at her. She was dressed like a certain mouse today, complete with the hairstyle to match. It was the kind of thing you'd only see at a theme park.

"So are you," he replied. She stuck her tongue out at him and ran off, leaving him alone in the lavishly decorated foyer, suddenly surrounded by the voices of decorators and event planners at work. It was irritating, and he felt the need for another cigarette kick in. He turned, but the thought of sitting alone in the car, while it snowed outside, depressed him so he decided to make his way to the kitchen, praying he wouldn't run into Sugimura Takeshi.

* * *

December 23, 14:18.

That afternoon, Tenten found herself exploring the house freely while Takeshi was taking a nap - lunch with his family, even including the members he liked, had been taxing, and Tenten could count on one hand more excruciating social experiences.

The study had been converted into a children's room, of sorts, but while they were out taking advantage of both sun and snow, the maids had tidied the room, and someone was sitting in an open windowsill, smoking a cigarette. With a jolt, Tenten realised it was Hyuuga Hitomi. Despite making no noise, the Hyuuga turned as Tenten made to leave, and she apologised instinctively.

"Sorry, I didn't know someone was in here."

"No need to apologise," the Hyuuga said, her expression neutral. Tenten stood there for a few moments, trying to decide what to say. They had never been introduced but she didn't know how to broach the topic without bringing up that first incident outside Takeshi's apartment.

"So you're Miyako, Sugimura's girlfriend," Hitomi said, in that odd inflectionless voice of hers. Not hostile, nor open, it still made conversation difficult.

"And you are?"

"Hyuuga Hitomi," she offered simply.

"Nice to meet you," Tenten said, still standing aimlessly in the middle of the room.

"Likewise," Hitomi replied, with a wry twist of the lips. "You put Kazu in quite a bind, with this act of yours."

She was so blunt she could probably render a diamond blade useless, Tenten mused, as she mustered up some indignation.

"Act?" She echoed.

"Yes, acting sweet when your real self is far more..." Her eyes swept over Tenten's form, making her feel self conscious. She hadn't dealt with this level of Hyuugan scrutiny in ... Years. She tried hard not to think of Neji, and looked away, gritting her teeth.

"Do you blame me, though?" Tenten asked coolly, finally finding her footing as she met Hitomi's eyes. "Everyone does what they can to get by. But this is not an act to me; I can safely say I despise the boy."

Hitomi arched an eyebrow, and changed the subject. "Do you have a gown for the masquerade tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tenten lied. The change was not a welcome one.

"Let me guess," Hitomi said, a smirk curving her lips. "Something smart casual but nothing for a black tie occasion because Sugimura forgot to tell you."

"I have a gown," Tenten said, clearly not enjoying the direction of the conversation. She could lie convincingly, but something was telling her not to push things too much today.

"Then why don't I believe you?" The Hyuuga asked. She put out her cigarette on the snow-covered ledge outside the window and tossed the butt into the garden. "How about this? I lend you a gown, since Shinji had a massive fight with his date this morning and they pretty much called it quits..."

"And?" Tenten asked, sounding more tense than she would have liked.

"You owe me a favour. A big one."

There was a heavy moment. Tenten hated to owe people anything, but this was, after all, her one chance, it seemed, to get to know more about Nagayama's group. She had to have something to help her partner with.

"Why would you help someone like me?"

"Something tells me it would be useful to have someone like you indebted to me; seeing how uncomfortable it makes you shows me you have much more potential than others think, including your boyfriend."

The notion was farfetched, but Tenten knew it was true. "That's ridiculous," she scoffed. "I don't even know you; that's what makes me uncomfortable."

Hitomi shrugged. "I'll tell Yuri that you're wearing the dress tomorrow." She trailed off as in thought and finally hopped off the ledge, into the room. "There's something I have to check back home. I'll bring some accessories with me tomorrow," she said, in place of goodbye, and left the study to find Shinji.

Tenten heard them talking as they met by chance in the corridor, then turned and walked back past the door. She was careful to closely study the bookshelf, keeping her face turned away, for good measure. He had seen her in disguise, true, but it wouldn't do to give him chances to recognise her.

"Is that Sugimura's girlfriend?" Shinji asked, his voice echoing down the hall as they walked briskly. Hitomi replied in the affirmative and he laughed. "This year might actually be fun."

Tenten sighed and collapsed into the sofa in the room, pausing to pull a naked, plastic doll without a head out from between the cushions and closed her eyes. She felt like she'd need a nap before the next onslaught at dinner, but she was exposed here – the owners of these dolls would soon return. With effort, she got up and made her way back to Takeshi's room, luckily without crossing paths with anyone. He was up, but sitting in bed, watching a rerun of a police show.

Miyako smiled and flopped onto the bed, her head in his lap as he stroked her hair and turned off the television.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Yes, actually," he said, smiling down at her. "Are you tired?"

"A little," she admitted. "I'm not sure if I'm ready for dinner, though."

Takeshi winced. He could describe his entire family's attitude towards Miyako in one word: unwelcoming. Other than Shizuka, who had been genuinely happy about the development, Hiroshi was the only other person who had displayed something other than thinly veiled disinterest. He had been almost sick with smugness to announce Momoka was pregnant, and the child would be a boy. Yuri, ever the family matriarch, had looked at Miyako shortly after the news and said, "She's a young slip of a thing. How old are you?"

"Twenty four," she said hesitantly, as the table fell silent.

"And you work in Suzu-chan's café?"

"I _was_ working there, yes." Miyako said, trying not to buckle under the pressure. Takeshi gripped her hand but Tenten was doing all the work now.

"And before you came to Sendai?"

"I was an office worker in Yamanashi prefecture, with an export company. I dealt with foreign clients, mostly," she said smoothly. This was her cover job in Tokyo, as well.

There was an audible crack in the tension and someone breathed a small sigh of relief.

"She has some prospects, then," Shizuka's husband said quietly. "But is she qualified to raise-"

"I wouldn't think that's the first thing you'd like to ask, darling," Shizuka interrupted him with an apologetic smile at Miyako. "Besides, Takeshi's doing fine with Mamoru, right?"

Tenten could only remember one other meeting which had been equally as disastrous, if not more, simply because of Naruto's presence. She had met Hiashi, with his two daughters at an incredibly exclusive restaurant in Shinjuku, accompanying Neji as his date. Naruto come as Hinata's, and the night had been going well until Naruto had drunk a bit too much champagne. Also, how his duck confit had ended up in Hiashi's lap, who had been sitting directly opposite him, remained one of the world's greatest mysteries, as far as Tenten was concerned.

"I've been through worse," she replied, truthfully. Takeshi exhaled, somewhat relieved, and then something else crossed his mind.

"About your outfit tomorrow, you don't have to –"

"I actually … have something sorted out," Miyako said, feeling a little bashful. "Like a last minute present from Santa."

"What happened?" Takeshi frowned.

"Well … it turns out one of Hyuuga Hitomi's dresses became available after … Shinji's date cancelled, she said."

"Miya-chan, that's …" he grimaced and ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. "People like my family don't give presents, they give favours. And sooner or later, they come to collect – and it's usually at the worst possible time. I'll talk to Shizuka-nee, she'll sort something out for you."

There was a heavy pause. Debts, and more debts.

"I think I'll be okay," Miyako said, smiling up at him. "I kind of get the feeling that Hyuuga-san is different."

"She is," Takeshi said, thoughtfully. "Why did you say yes? Is it because of my family, or what you think is expected of you?"

"Of course not!" The truth, however, was written on her face, and she looked away.

"I might see if I can find a bow tie and formal suit, then," Takeshi said, looking out the window. "I'm sure there are some left in my room."

"You weren't going to wear a bowtie in the first place?"

"Well, before I wasn't going to be in a photograph with six other beautiful women, so I decided it would be best to up my game," he laughed.

"What?" Tenten sat up, and looked at him. "Like for a newspaper or something?" She counted quickly in her head – one for Takeshi's mother, Yuri, herself and Hitomi. Then, there was also Shizuka, and the two other girls in Nagayama's group – Michiru, the actress, and Fumiko, the daughter of a president of some company.

"Yeah, part of the reason why I've avoided my family during Christmas is that this party is really an ordeal. A lot of people come back to kind of show off how they've been doing – only really successful alumni, or highly connected people in Sendai come to this event."

Miyako bit her lip. "I won't be asked any questions or anything, will I?"

"No, you'll just be on my arm like a model. Which, I believe, Okuchi's girlfriend may have been."

The brunette paled. "So… those are some pretty big expectations, then."

Takeshi laughed so hard Miyako had to sit up and swat him on the arm. "What makes you think you're not prettier than she is?" he asked, once the fit subsided.

"This woman, whoever she is, is a model! Normal girls like me –"

"Are far more beautiful. Besides, I could never have fallen in love you otherwise; you would have been too wrapped up in yourself to even notice me."

Tenten stilled. "You love me?"

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. "Yes, Miya, if you haven't noticed already."

She took in a deep, sharp breath, and as he pulled away, Miyako leaned forward and kissed him. He smiled against her lips as he began to push her back onto the bed. A knock on the door interrupted them and Miyako quickly slipped under the covers to hide her state of semi-undress, and Takeshi got up to open the door.

"Sorry, were you sleeping?"

It was Shizuka. "Sort of," Takeshi replied carefully. "What's up?"

"I heard from Mama that Miyako-chan's going to be wearing Miho-san's dress. I trust Hitomi-chan's judgement but I guess we just need to see her in it in case we need to change anything."

"I could always just tell you her measurements-"

"Don't be a pervert! Besides, it would be easier for us just to put it on her," Shizuka said, grinning at Miyako over her brother's shoulder. "Don't tell me, I actually interrupted you two just now?"

* * *

December 24, 17:30.

Miyako was sitting at the dresser in the room, taking her time to apply her makeup. The day had passed slowly, and despite her promising to talk to Takeshi about what had transpired yesterday, she still felt awkward bringing it up. Again.

She eyed the dress hanging in the open closet and sighed, before finally applying the perfume she had brought with her – Sasuke's gift. She told herself she was only wearing it because it suited her. Takeshi came out of the bathroom, having just showered, and when he saw her still getting ready, he placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the neck, breathing in the scent of her perfume.

"Is that new?" He asked, looking at the bottle on the dresser.

"Yeah, I bought it last week," she replied, catching his eyes in their reflection. "Do you like it?"

"It's like summer … but it smells so good on you," he said, breathing in her scent again. "I can't wait for tonight to be over," he murmured, his hands sliding underneath her dressing gown.

"It's only Christmas eve," Miyako protested, swatting him away with a grin. "No peeking at the presents. But maybe this might do." With a small smile, she turned to face him, and he kissed her once, softly.

"Take your time, I'll head down first and play the dutiful if not prodigal son."

Tenten waited for him to close the door before she stood to get changed. The dress was a red, strapless cocktail dress in Chinese brocade, embroidered with dragons, of all things. A gathering of geometric shapes gave an uneven and eye catching neckline. Tenten felt a shiver as she touched it, remembering the last time she'd worn a dress like this.

It had been some six months ago; a diplomatic escort mission involving Tenten posing as a date for the foreign affairs minister on a visit to Shanghai. One could never be too careful, he had reasoned. Lee had accompanied her as backup and Sasuke had followed discreetly in the shadows. It had gone without a hitch, but unwinding afterwards when the minister was with his own security team, the three of them had gotten decidedly drunk, resulting in all kinds of inappropriate conversations, mostly instigated by her.

She slipped into the dress easily - Hitomi's instincts had been right, and the dress had fit perfectly. There was a knock at the door and Hitomi entered the room, wearing a cream one-shouldered dress with silver threads woven into the fabric. In place of a necklace, she wore a black sheer silk scarf and a string of smoky grey pearls in her white hair.

The Hyuuga smiled with approval. "It looks better on you," she nodded with satisfaction. "So I'm here, as promised, with accessories," Hitomi said, waving about a black boutique bag. She stopped when she saw Miyako take off the apple necklace. "That really doesn't suit you," she said, with a hint of exasperation. "You should switch to something..." She stopped at the look the brunette gave her and sighed. "Think of it as friendly advice."

Miyako refrained from rolling her eyes and saying they didn't exactly qualify as friends, but the effort was shown on her face. Hitomi cleared her throat. "In any case, I want you to wear this armband, and this ring on the opposite hand, whichever is fine." She took out a golden armband from a grey velvet bag, and a cocktail ring with a iridiscent, slightly green crystal set in its claws.

"It is Christmas after all, but jade would have been far too orthodox," the Hyuuga said with a wink. "You should mingle; people will be interested in who you are since you're wearing this, but you can be as vague as you like. I'm keeping Kazu on a short leash tonight, but if you're not careful, Shinji might claim you."

Miyako stepped into her heels with a hand from Hitomi, and they left the room together, meeting the others - variation on a theme. Michiru looked every bit the movie starlet in a blood red gown that clung to her form with an audacious bare back, her hair done up in an elaborate style. Fumiko looked chic in a slightly more tangerine, sheer swing dress over a black lace slip, her hair falling in waves and shifting as she walked. Shizuka played the part of the housewife in a sleeveless, burnt red evening dress with a high neck and a bracelet of fern leaves on her slender wrist. Yuri, in a silver gown, was clearly the power wielding hostess, complete with a fur stole and large diamond pendant, surrounded by small sapphires. This was not to be outdone by her wedding ring, a 7 carat behemoth that demanded attention.

Miyako blinked at the ensemble and looked to Hitomi for an explanation.

"It's a small press opportunity, Yuri is going to welcome everyone in and introduce her family. Just stand up here on the balcony, we'll follow her down later... And I see Sugimura's waiting to escort you after that."

With that, Hitomi handed them all black silk masks, all slightly different in their choice of ornaments. For Fumiko, she fixed a sharply cut, blue-black feather to the apple of her left cheek along with some black crystals, which she stuck directly into the outer corners of her eyelids.

"You're not made to wear masks, Fumi-chan. Enjoy your night with Dai."

The three turned to Miyako and Shizuka smiled to offer her support and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You look beautiful, Miyako-san."

She could only offer a nervous smile in return and looked down at the crowd. Her heart jolted when she recognised Daichi with his bright hair. He looked up and waved at them, and Fumiko beamed back down at him. Michiru gave her a once over and a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Maybe that's what Kazu sees in you," she said coolly. "To be fair, I'd take Sugimura-sempai over him. The dress suits you but you're lucky Shin-chan's date was a plus size model."

Miyako felt her hands tremble, and Fumiko reached out to her wrist. "Don't be mad. Chiru-chan just says things because she worries you might be prettier than her," she said. Miyako's face was enough of a reply, and the girl let her hand drop. Turning away, Miyako tied her mask securely, and felt her heart settle down. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. Wearing masks was what she was trained to do.

Yuri began her address to the crowd as her husband Jiro came up to meet her, thanking everyone for coming to spend Christmas with them. She went through a few names, congratulating the successes of some exceptional alumni from the school and thanked everyone for their continual support, including Hyuuga Hitomi, who had designed the red dresses that stood out in a sea of powder blue and silver.

At this point, Hitomi stepped up and journalists, if they had only half heartedly taken pictures earlier were earnestly snapping photos like their lives depended on it. There was polite applause and the music continued and the guests filtered away into the siderooms to start sitting at tables to dine or dance in the ballroom.

"They really went all out," Miyako muttered as they began to walk downstairs. She looked around, trying to see where Takeshi was, but he was nowhere in sight. Yuri and Shizuka were already gone and Hitomi had walked off without a partner, talking with some journalists. Nagayama came up to Michiru and in doing so, smirked over her shoulder at Miyako, causing a chill to run down her spine. In the next instant, he had turned back to the cameras with his girlfriend and they posed for some photos before continuing downstairs.

Miyako continued to scan the crowd but Takeshi was still nowhere to be seen. Daichi walked up to the staircase and Fumiko took his arm, the pair of them smiling for the cameras before walking off. Tenten watched them leave, both relieved and disappointed Daichi hadn't even looked at her. Suddenly, there was someone by her side as she walked down the last few steps, and she took Takeshi's arm and smiled as the cameras flashed a few times. The photographers thanked them and moved on, and Tenten looked up.

"What took you so long? I was scared I'd have to walk al-"

Long hair. Slender, but strong hands that were leading her towards the ballroom. And behind a simple black mask, grey eyes that could always see right through her.

"Come on now," said Hyuuga Neji. "You know how much I love to make an entrance."


End file.
